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

There are often surprises in the field, but this one had nothing to do with rocks. Within the river valley of Rio Escarrea, this blue-crested motmot was hiding from the afternoon sun - well, the sun as well as intruders... like me!

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.