Fieldwork, continued

The driest I've ever seen it:
In this view, Volcán Barú has a few clouds gathering around the summit but otherwise there's hardly a breath of moisture in the air. The intervening "hummocks" in the fore-and-middle ground are dusty and brittle grass covers the slopes. But this weather won't last long. Despite how brutal the Death Valley-like weather is for hiking and traversing the campo, I'm not looking forward to the polar opposite: knee-high mud and drenched notes.

In anticipation of the winter rains, I've packed in 2 weeks of fieldwork... más o menos. A modified Debris Avalanche map has come from this as well as many new outcrop descriptions and field photos. Should I post the new gritty details? I don't think I have time and it might not be as interesting to read as it would be to type. But regardless, I'd like to share some of the most interesting photos from last week.I haven't spent a lot of time on the Rio Chiriqui Viejo, but each time I visit it, I'm never disappointed; there is always something interesting to see. This time, I saw Squirrel Monkeys (thanks for the correction Holly!). Maybe I've seen these small, masked critters in photos, but never live, in the wild. This view shows 3 of them playing in a tree high above the riverbank. What the photo doesn't show is the object of their game: a white, black-speckled bird of prey that was circling the tree.

Aaaah, the benefits of a good zoom, here's a portrait of a member of the trio.
Southeast of the Rio Chiriqui Viejo are several other rivers. An important one figuring into my mapping project is the Rio Divalá. While there might be a few small families of Squirrel Monkeys close to the Pacific coast, there are MANY clans of Howler Monkeys. I've spent more than a year in Panamá and I've hardly seen so much wildlife so often - the following photo was taken AFTER the howling began.

Have you ever heard anything like this?



The following photo isn't mine, but I wish it was. There have been so many times when I've seen a Blue Morpho butterfly - whether out of the corner of my eye or disappearing into the shadows - that it is starting to drive me crazy. These are beautiful marvels, something you can't observe wild in the USA and yet, every time I see the flash of blue, there is never enough time to pull out the camera and focus in on the insect. These butterflies are just that fast. Like the day I spent walking the upper reaches of Rio Piedra: I saw the Blue Morpho in the shadows, immediately dropped my backpack to the ground, pulled open the drawstrings, unzipped the camera case, pressed "Power," and... the butterfly was gone. I even ran into the trees looking for it and, nope, sorry, "ya se fue," I couldn't find it with my naked eye, never mind the camera lens. But to represent it's presence, I'm using this photo from: http://www.yesnet.yk.ca/schools/wes/webquests_themes/butterfly_lucille/butterfly_species/morpho/index.html

Oh, I'll keep trying - I'll keep looking out for those beautiful wings. Besides, it's flashing my favorite color and few things can wear blue so nicely.

Project: Volcan Baru

A 5-day visit with volcanologists...

The adventure shed light on the far corners of the field while also establishing a scope for the project. While new questions cropped up during the trip, the theme never changed:
What is going on with these debris deposits?!

What we were looking for:
Multi-colored, buried blocks that explain the insides of debris avalanches. Within massive quarries, road and stream-cuts, and construction sites, the presence OR absence of these features provides information about composition and energy.

Textures, when volcanoes fall down, particular things happen to the rocks: fracturing, shattering, shearing, disaggregation... that is to say: busted up. Something we're seeing at the distal end of the deposit is jigsaw fracturing. Not every block is like this, but by now I've seen enough of these to link it with the mixed-up phase of the avalanche. This photo is an example, rock hammer for scale.

Topographic clues, despite the estimated age of the events, the topography still tells us something about the past - and adds a few more questions to the whole picture, but it's no good to ignore the hints given by aerial photos, digital elevation models, topo maps, and panoramic views. There is a 20-square kilometer area that is dissected by erosion and abruptly becomes high, rolling plateau - why?

Carbon samples, wood or charcoal or bulk soil samples that can date or at least constrain the timing of events. As far as I'm concerned, finding 7 samples within a 5-day visit is as good as it gets for a debris avalanche.

Contacts, we were lucky to gain access to the largest construction site I've seen in Panama. A new dam is going in on the Rio Chiriqui Viejo - I learned that there could be 10 more built sometime in the future, interesting... Here, the excavation is cutting so deeply that we saw both debris avalanche material and the underlying bedrock exposed within the same view. Construction workers looked like specks and whether they knew it or not, they were pointing out the unit base for us - thanks guys!

Places like this will be worthwhile to revisit. This kind of construction requires incredible excavation, in the river valley as well as further away where quarries appear to provide gravel for all of the concrete needed to stabilize the slopes.

The 5 days were a success - we have new information and ideas about Volcan Baru's debris avalanche deposits. Also, there was time to talk-story with friends and enjoy the best sunset spot I've ever seen in Panama.

Project: Volcan Baru

This is just a quick update - quicker than normal.

The research I plan on doing based on Volcan Baru is progressing, just as it has been since I arrived, but NOW it's time to actually blog about it.

After a year spent in-country and focusing on Peace Corps activities, the hardcore geology work is now ready to take center stage. That is to say, when I'm not juggling aqueduct and latrine construction, I am hiking (or bicycling as it may be) out to my field area to map a volcanic deposit.

The fieldwork has already begun and I'm not joking about taking a bike, my research area is huge and there is a lot of ground to cover. Where am I working? Here:

(The USGS map shows 3 shaded areas: blue is Volcan Baru's edifice, brown is the lahar flow field, and in green is where I am working: the debris avalanche deposit, DAD. The original paper where you can see this map and the full explanation is here: http://pubs.usgs.gov/of/2007/1401/)

How do you map a VDAD? The primary features I'm focusing on are the hummocks, already deeply buried by thousands of years of lahar flows, but with a little help of aerial photos and lots of time spent "hoofing it" - I'll be able to map out the extent of the region and hopefully gather enough information to explain how such a large-scale event occurred and when.

More fieldwork should have happened in November, but renewed construction in-site and VERY bad weather changed my plans. During the week of the 16th a major storm system approached Panama's northern coast. A huge cell of rain (is that correct to say? maybe it's better to say "cells") moved in from the Caribbean and sat over the shoreline dumping rain and rising winds. Rivers were flooding, small streams graduated to rushing highways of mud, landslides covered major roads, bridges were damaged, houses were washed away, fincas were drowned, and unfortunately, some rescue efforts failed.
(Photo by Angel Rodriguez; road to Cerro Punta; Rio Chiriqui Viejo)

(Photo by SINAPROC staff; aerial view of flooding in Bocas del Toro, Nov. 16-30, 2008; http://www.sinaproc.gob.pa)

Formal report here: United Nations report

PC Volunteers were evacuated where possible, in some cases it was better to ride out the storm than cross the bay of Bocas del Toro, but it's going to be difficult for many of them to return to their sites.

Good luck you guys!

Volcano Fieldwork Part 2

February 17-20th: What is this rocky prairie? This photo was taken just seconds before the clouds moved in completely to take away the view of the summit dome. My volcanological companions and I visited Volcan Baru´s amphitheater during an uncharacteristically rainy week. After exploring the area of La Yeguada with PCVs Karinne and Noah, we took the Interamericana, headed west, then drove due north to the volcano. This was a good time to visit the largest known debris avalanche in Central America. The photo above is a view into the amphitheater of Volcan Baru. We are standing on a lahar surface and looking roughly East up into the dome complex. Too bad about the weather, the summit antennas are already hidden by the incoming rain.

Since we had the benefit of several great geological minds, we took time to look at a phenomenon very different than lava flows. Debris avalanches are dramatic, but very rare events at volcanoes. By rare, I mean that they don´t happen every day but many volcanoes around the world have collapse features like what you can see at Baru. Some preliminary studies describe this particular deposit as the largest in Central America. What does that mean? At this point it just means that a whole lot of mountain fell down many thousands of years ago.

Want to know more about hummocks? Go here: USGS VHP

Events like this are very interesting for a number of reasons but I´m interested in them because they scoop out a volcano and create new terrain. After walking around Mount St. Helens for a while in 2004, I developed a particular interest in the features called hummocks. They represent coherent blocks that tumbled, slid, or floated along with the rest of the debris that made up the flanks of a volcano. Here´s one outcrop of a hummock but it represents a blocky phase and lacks the multicolored characteristic typical of most hummocks:

(Bill, Guillermo, and Karinne for scale)

In the fan of deposits from Baru, you can find these hummocks and start to get an idea of how the collapse took place- this could be good thesis material.

Thanks for taking the time to visit and brainstorm project plans, everybody - this was a valuable series of fieldtrips!

Michigan Tech '06

The Year On Campus 06-07

The PCMI program (Peace Corps Master's International) on campus is actually fairly old. I learned that the Forestry Department and the Engineers (both Civil and Environmental) have been collaborating with the PC for more than 10 years. Currently, the university is developing a Science Education program that will also partner with Peace Corps, but for the moment, the Geology Department is the youngest MI program on campus. We're the pioneers: Woohoo!
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The autumn weather in this part of the world is beautiful. Upper Peninsula weather is "special" and most would agree it's a bit infamous, but before the layers of snow close in, the warm September days are powerfully distracting as the semester begins. Like a classic New England autumn, the maples create a spectacle and follow up with a heaping mess of fallen leaves - the transition is gorgeous.

While worrying about course-load, Peace Corps paperwork, and how to prepare for a 2-year experience in a developing country, I met a lot of great people juggling the same stresses. The geo MIs made up a tight but small group, so I enjoyed sneaking into the events/gatherings of the engineers and foresters. This was especially easy since my housemates were a wonderfully mixed lot: returned volunteers, aspiring volunteers, and adopted PCMI (yes, that's you Dhita). We weren't the only house near campus that focused so much PC power, the 900 House was another magnet for us. Theme parties (the '80s will never die), socials (Jack's movie selection was topnotch!), study sessions (oh GIS), a Thanksgiving extravaganza (special thanks to Matt's Mom&Dad!), Christmas tree management (Panchita and Dhita had a vision), and overflowing washermachine events remain fixed in my memory of domestic life.
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How new is my program? New enough that the first wave of students hadn't yet returned from Peace Corps service to defend their thesis. It was possible to email the far-field students, but it was a tough way to get an introduction; this meant that very bit of advice and quickly-typed explanation helped immensely. It's not possible to feel completely prepared for the upcoming experience, but certainly over the course of 2 semesters it's possible to adjust to what is "knowable" and "unknowable." For example...

Knowable:
1. When the PC invitation letter arrives, you will celebrate.
2. When the final exams are over, you will celebrate.
3. When the Spanish skit with ghosts and jungles ends, you will celebrate.
4. When your advisor says: we'll support you, you will celebrate.

Unknowable:
1. What country you will serve in.
2. What language you should practice.
3. What thesis topic you will develop.
4. When the PC assignment will arrive.

Important Lesson:
Know when to celebrate.

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Winter Carnival on Campus:
Too famous to brush over, too important to forget photos! I could fill up a webpage full of all of the photos I took - but I won't, the university is maintaining a perfectly good site here:
http://www.mtu.edu/carnival/gallery/
I didn't try broomball, but the MTU winter was great fun. Hockey games, cross-country skiing, snowshoeing (thanks for the invitation Jim!), ice skating (you got better Matt), shoveling, hot chocolate, snow sculpture-touring ... I feel pretty good about the winter semester. I could have done without the Calculus class, but I think we all knew that from the get-go._________________________________________________________________

During both semesters, it wasn't possible to stop mulling over what the next year abroad would be like. Above all possible questions the bothered me the most, I desperately wanted to know if my country of service would offer me volcanoes. I wasn't particularly bothered by the prospect of learning an obscure new language or if I would have to cross piranha-filled rivers someday in order to reach potable water; no, I had more serious concerns. Will I have a volcano to study? This was an "unknowable," a terrible, terrible "unknowable."

Since my geology program focuses on Central American geologic hazards, I felt very comfortable with the prospect of narrowing my mulling activities to 14 countries due south of the United States. Early in the Fall Semester, I took on a project that would appear to have no definite end: a webpage.

As an attempt to both brainstorm what my future work/world would be like, I began a site that could provide information about what volcanic conditions exist in both South and Central American countries. The scope was a bit ridiculous, but I adopted a plan to post what material could possibly help me while I volunteer in the "unknowable" country. We shall see just how helpful this proves to be! _________________________________________________________________

Peace Corps Details:
The application process is long and often painful for aspirants, but I believe that I was spared quite a bit of heartache. Not many complications existed with my forms: I applied to Michigan Tech in Dec. 2005 and didn't click "Send" to complete the Peace Corps online application until August 28th, 2006 before moving to campus. My official interview was held on campus sometime in November (then stretched to a telephone conversation) and the medical checkups happened fairly easily across the Portage. The acceptance letter showed up in December, the assignment details appeared in mid-March.

Mid-March, yes! This was fairly early but certainly felt far too drawn out at the time. Was the post a surprise? Yes to that as well.