Dispatches from the national parks from CAUSE 2004: Rocking the Parks
Southwestern U.S. -- Thirteen students from Penn State's College of Earth and Mineral Sciences, two geology professors (Richard Alley and Sridhar Anandakrishnan), and two instructors (Eric Spielvogel and Anna Brendle) are spending three weeks in the American Southwest visiting national parks in Arizona, Utah and Colorado for a geology class called "Taking Geology of the National Parks On Location, On Line, and On TV." A videographer from Penn State's public broadcasting affiliate, WPSX, has joined them to create a documentary about their trip.
The adventure is part of a yearlong project of the Center for Advanced Undergraduate Study and Experience (CAUSE) at Penn State. For more background on this year's CAUSE program, visit http://live.psu.edu/story/6915 For more information about CAUSE in general, visit http://www.ems.psu.edu/cause/index.html
Below are the dispatches from the students in reverse order.
Dispatch #5: Feuding faculty worth their salt?
By undergraduate student Ryan Hanrahan, meteorology
After leaving Capitol Reef National Park on Tuesday morning, we embarked on a three-hour journey through an "alpine paradise" complete with 10,000-foot snow-covered peaks and grove after grove of aspen trees gently rustling in the breeze.
After descending in elevation by almost a mile, we arrived at Canyonlands National Park near Moab, Utah -- the largest national park in Utah -- to find a stark and austere desert landscape with stunning views of the Green River merging into the Colorado River. At Grand Viewpoint, we saw an exceptional panorama of the Needles and Maze districts of the park. In the Needles district, "hoodoos" are carved away from rock to form tall jagged rock skyscrapers. Our National Park Service interpreter informed us that the extrememly remote Maze district is only accessible by driving several hours on winding dirt roads in rented four-wheel drive vehicles.
At the Island in the Sky area, ominous dark canyons overshadow the glowing setting sun on the eastern horizon. Our resident geologists, Richard Alley and Sridhar Anandakrishnan debated one of the most bizarre geologic features witnessed on this trip -- the Upheaval Dome. Battling gusty 50-mile per hour winds, we were able to produce a spectacular video segment of feuding geologists arguing whether or not this magnificent formation was caused by a meteor impact or by a layer of potassium salts under the bedrock known as the "Paradox Formation" bulging to the surface.
Canyonlands at Island in the Sky also gave us an opportunity to produce a video segment about the economic and industrial application of geology. The salt from the Paradox Formation is mixed throughout the southern Utah region for potash, which is used in pharmaceuticals and fertilizer. After water is pumped down into the salty layer of rock, the resultant brine is pumped out and left in huge evaporation ponds, visible throughout the area, that are a striking neon-blue color. When the water has evaporated, large machinery scrapes out the potash and workers ship it to factories throughout the western U.S.
Our views from Canyonlands at Island in the Sky were some of the most beautiful we have seen thus far. Largely untouched by humans, Canyonlands offers truly unobstructed and unparalleled views of the Colorado and Green rivers as well as remarkable geologic formations and the pristine beauty of the desert.
Dispatch #4: Lessons set in stone
By undergraduate student Kimberly Kline, geosciences
Dark rain clouds loomed overhead as we drove from Bryce Canyon National Park through tall stands of Ponderosa pine trees and quaking aspens to Capitol Reef National Park, in southern Utah. Not wanting to lose a filming opportunity to bad weather, we stopped in front of twin rocks at the park entrance to film the first video segment.
These twin rock pillars, called "hoodoos," are freestanding rock pillars composed of different layers of rock. Here, differential erosion brings out the details of sedimentary joints and crossbedding, carving some parts of rocks more than others. The results are often stunning -- large rocks left teetering on thin rock columns below.
To illustrate how differential erosion happens, I filmed two students wearing hard hats in front of the twin rock hoodoos. I stood above them and dropped a storm of rock pebbles on their heads while a park ranger and our crew looked on, discussing the possibility of rain.
We must have warded off the rain with our pebbles, because the clouds moved past before sunset. Driving into the park, it wasn't hard to notice it was strikingly different than the previous four. Rather than barren brush, scrub grasses and sand, the valley that runs through towering red rock cliffs was lush and green. Our group campsite was a large green grass field surrounded by fruit orchards and 500-foot rock walls on either side. Unlike most southwestern areas that require a sprinkler system to maintain a small patch of grass, Capitol Reef is home to the Fremont River, which made it an ideal location for early settlers. In fact, the first European settlement was established by the Latter Day Saints and named "Fruita" for the extensive fields of fruit trees they planted.
Five of us snuck away from camp at 6 a.m. to film our first segment on the Water Pocket Fold. This classic monocline runs the entire length of Capitol Reef and is responsible for most of the geologic features here: spires, monoliths, arches, hoodoos and cliffs. Happy with the segment, we decided to produce a sillier one that resurrected the infamous "Fault Hunters" from Bryce Canyon and sent several other students on a mission to return a small, helpless rock at the bottom of a hill to its family at the top. We measured grain size and recorded rock types to illustrate the concept of erosion.
Later, we drove to sites of Native American petroglyphs, estimated to be more than 1,000 years old. These rock carved pictures are 12 feet from the base of rock cliffs. Members of the Fremont culture carved human and animal figures, maps, and other symbols into the desert "varnish."
Early records of the area document a complete rock slab. Today, the petroglyph wall is missing rock. One big horn sheep petroglyph lost its legs by the cracking off of a slab due to erosion. This illustrates the relatively short scale of time involved in shaping rock cliffs in geology.
While filming the petroglyph segment, I realized how awkward talking in front of a camera can be, especially with an audience. Calm and collected during the earlier segments, with the entire PBS film crew from WPSX, it suddenly became a lot more difficult to concentrate.
Next, we drove to a site along the Fremont River where, in 1962, the river had been redirected. The river rocks show extensive erosion, with numerous deep channels and potholes through the sandstone bedrock, yet this is from only 40 years of erosion. I filmed the potholes and fast moving whitewater for a segment about water induced erosion.
Our final stop was an outcropping of sandstone, laid down 70-80 million years ago during the Cretaceous period by the inundation of the western U.S. by the "Great Western Interior Seaway." Although the layer is just another sandstone like many others we saw, this one contains numerous fossilized oyster shells. These fossils clearly distinguish the area as marine sediment unlike the surrounding terrestrial sandstones.
By lunchtime, we had finished filming, and I was exhausted. Capitol Reef National Park had a lot of geologic lessons to offer.
For pictures, visit http://live.psu.edu/still_life/2004_06_11_canyons/index.html
Dispatch #3: Three views on two parks
By undergraduate students Sheri Shannon, earth sciences, Dave Janesko, geosciences, and Dave Witmer, geography
Mile-high, narrow slot canyons with verdant valleys and water-soaked walls dominate Zion National Park. In Bryce National Park, an amphitheater of rock spires called "hoodoos" fill the canyon like a crowd of hundred-foot tall rock people. Both parks showcase the power and variation of erosion: wind, water and temperature take advantage of natural breaks in rocks to shape the landscape into these stunningly unique features.
We are all students in the College of Earth and Mineral Sciences, but we each study a different major, and so experienced these parks on different levels.
Sheri Shannon: Our four-vehicle, 18-person convoy drove to Zion National Park late in the evening, so the towering cliffs were an eye-opening view at 6 a.m. when we awoke. Our first hike was in Hidden Canyon -- and this was our first full day with the three-person film crew from WPSX. The steep two-mile hike should have taken several hours, but we had to be patient with the film crew as they requested many retakes, and the hike was longer.
Despite Dr. Alley's numerous descriptions, videos and photos to explain the geologic features in Zion National Park -- such as crossbeds -- we still were not sure what to expect. When we saw the majestic walls of stone towering around us, everything finally made sense. Even though Dr. Alley warned us that the hike in Hidden Canyon would be moderately strenuous -- one wrong move off the trail could mean death -- I overcame my fear of heights to enjoy the beauty of the Park.
I am interested in human impacts on the environment, and decided to interview hikers along the trail. At Bryce Canyon National Park, a 15-year-old student from Bucks County, Pa., very clearly stated one of the missions of the National Park Service: "Leave no trace."
Dave Witmer: After hiking the steep trails through Hidden Canyon, we walked the trail to the Narrows, where I created a video segment about how rivers transport all types of materials. While standing in the 45-degree waters of the Virgin River, my classmates filmed me discussing how rivers transport sediments and debris, such as wood and leaves. Even though it was difficult to work around the PBS film crew, our end result turned out well.
The following day, we traveled to Bryce Canyon National Park, where we spent a very chilly night at 27-degrees in teepees at 8,000 feet elevation. In the morning, we met two interpretive staff members for a hike through Bryce Canyon's "Wall Street," where towering rock spires called "hoodoos" line the trail like Manhattan skyscrapers.
Dave Janesko: On our way from Zion National Park to Bryce Canyon National Park, we stopped to film the Sevier Fault. Faults are breaks in rocks where movement has occurred. They can range in size from tiny cracks to the giants of plate tectonics. The Sevier Fault, in southern Utah, is a northwest trending normal fault that dips to the west on the border of the Basin and Range region of the Colorado Plateau. Here, the 10 million year-old black-colored Marysville volcanic rocks are juxtaposed beside 40 million-year old pink colored Clarion formation rocks from lake debris. The contrast in colors and rock types make this a great place to explain large normal faults.
When we arrived at the fault, Dr. Alley and I gave a brief geologic history of the area and the fault. Then I took a small film crew -- Dave Witmer, geography, Sam Ascah, geography, Kym Kline, geosciences -- to film our video segment. Dr. Alley and the PBS film crew joined us. To make my segment more memorable, I decided to spoof a popular television show. Ascah became "Z. W. McWigglesworth," a world-famous fault hunter; Witmer was "Baron Greywacke DeCollement," and I was "Skip Faultgauge," the world-famous structural geologist. Together we were "The Fault Hunters."
We began by pretending to track the fault. When we found it, I explained the history and defined normal faults. The Sevier is great for illustrating the mechanics at normal faults. I sat on the contrast between the black volcanic rock and the pink lake debris rock, using a rock from each site to explain the movement along this fault line.
Dispatch #2: The Glen Canyon challenge
By undergraduate students Raya Guruswamy and Amish Shah.
"Stop the car now!" screams Dr. Alley on the walkie-talkie. Our four-vehicle convoy pulls aside on the road, one mile past the Glen Canyon Dam. It's 5:30 p.m., just before sunset. From the second car emerges Dr. Richard Alley, pointing in the direction of the sun, screaming "The light is perfect! The light is perfect!"
Raya and Amish, two CAUSE students whose assignment for the project is to film several video segments about dams and water allocation at Glen Canyon near Page, Ariz., scramble to find and setup tripods, cameras and microphones to film at the site.
Within 10 minutes, the cameras were rolling, and Dr. Alley was in teaching mode. From that point on, it was obvious that the man loved the camera, and the camera loved the man. Dr. Alley began to explain how Glen Canyon Dam changed the Colorado River forever.
When the dam was completed in 1963, Lake Powell, one of the largest and most controversial water storage projects in the United States, began to fill. Built to store two years' worth of water, the lake now remains at a minuscule 10 percent capacity, due to the present drought of five years.
As the sun set, and darkness descended, we packed away our cameras and made our way to camp. The next morning, Raya, Amish, Eric, our instructor, and Topher, our instructional cameraman, woke at 4:30 a.m. MST to capture the beautiful sunrise above the marina. At 5:22 a.m., an explosion of sunlight appeared on the Colorado River; suddenly the river was brought to life. Boats and yachts began to zip across Lake Powell. Huge houseboats on oversized trailers roll into the parking lot.
From the proliferation of boats and yachts docked at the marina, it was obvious that Page was a small city with an influx of immense wealth. Looking around the area, we realized that Lake Powell was for those with materialistic, luxurious and horsepower needs. When we finished these shots, we made our way back to the campground.
Later that day, we toured the Carl B. Hayden Visitor Center at the dam. The Glen Canyon dam is maintained and owned by the Bureau of Reclamation, but the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area is operated by the National Park Service. Duane, a veteran employee of 35 years at Glen Canyon Dam, led the tour inside, outside and on top of the 700-foot monster dam.
At maximum capacity, the eight turbines combined can produce 1.96 megawatts of electricity with a water flow rate of 15 million gallons an minute. Due to lower water levels, there are currently only four turbines running. Duane took great pride in telling us that in 1983, the dam was at full capacity, because of El Nino weather events. So full was the dam, that plyboards were placed on top of the dam to prevent water from flowing over.
Currently, electricity from Glen Canyon Dam is routed to 1.7 million people in Arizona, Colorado, Utah, Wyoming, New Mexico and Nevada. Together with the Hoover Dam further downstream, the Colorado River project serves a great proportion of the southeastern states.
Filming was an alien task for us in which neither had professional experience. Amish found it difficult to keep up with the various changing lighting environments as we constantly went in and out of doors. Raya had trouble watching where he was going while walking backwards with the camera, encountering close calls with the floor on several occasions. On top of this, both directors were faced with the difficulty of paying attention to Duane while filming.
To end our production, we took various shots of the dam, experimenting with different camera skills we had learned in the past two weeks -- still shots, B roll and fading.
Looking back, there are a number of things that we would have liked to do differently, but perhaps all directors say this.
Dispatch #1: Grand Canyon is first up
By undergraduate students Ryan Hanrahan and Elaine McGuiney, meteorology, and Irene McKenna, geography.
We knew we were getting closer, but the Grand Canyon still appeared out of nowhere. This is our first stop in a whirlwind tour of 10 national parks.
We spent the past semester learning about the geology of the Grand Canyon, and now it is our job to film the canyon, our professors and each other. We are creating video segments for a new online course on the geology of southwestern national parks for Dr. Alley.
After taking our first glimpse at this mile-deep canyon, we split into three groups based on how much hiking we wanted to do: one group hiked the strenuous 9.3 mile Bright Angel trail to Phantom Ranch; one group hiked about 5 miles to Indian Gardens campground; and the last group explored the South Rim.
During the hike down, we followed Dr. Alley on a tour back through geologic time -- walking through 1.5 billion years of rock history. During our hike, Dr. Alley pointed out geologic features like the Kaibab limestone at the rim and the Hurricane Fault along our trail.
Our videographer, Topher Yorks, joined us to film Dr. Alley and us. It was hard to ignore him as he often ran backwards down the steep and winding trail, but we followed his directions not to look at him and the camera as best we could.
We carried two smaller video cameras to capture the trek and Dr. Alley's lessons. This was our first chance to put our new video knowledge to the test.
We left the South Rim of the Grand Canyon late in the afternoon, carrying heavy packs and knowing that some of us would be hiking in the dark before arriving at Phantom Ranch, near the Colorado River. Even in the daylight, one student, Irene McKenna, tumbled gracefully several times, but was surprisingly never injured.
After a good night's sleep, the two groups met at the Colorado River to begin the arduous trek to the top. We rested at Indian Gardens for lunch before attempting the five-mile climb. Some students reached the top in under three hours, but most of us hiked for nearly five before reaching the summit. Part of our reward near the top was a rare sighting of several endangered California condors, which Dr. Alley pointed out circling the South Rim lodge.
We spent nearly 24 hours in the canyon before rejoining our whole group for dinner and a restful sleep at the South Rim campground. The next day, we traveled to Yavapai Point to meet a park ranger and interview some visitors. The ranger, Allyson, gave us an exclusive geology lesson while many park visitors looked on. She discussed the striking geologic features -- the "temples" of rock caps named after Hindu gods and goddesses -- and the intangible and varied connection all visitors have to the canyon. She mentioned that even geologic scientists can feel a deep spiritual experience here -- viewing the greatest show on earth.
We concur.
For pictures, visit http://live.psu.edu/still_life/2004_05_28_canyon/index.html