Desolation Wilderness V - Geology Rocks!

This is a few-months' jump back in time now, a continuation in posts from the July 4 Desolation Wilderness trip. I had begun to write this note, and saved the draft, before I left for Europe in late July; but life has been whirling since then. I intend to get around to publish something about the trip, but for now some images are publicly shared, with captions, on my Picasa page, and that's it.

The split boulder below is just cool, plain and simple. I wonder whether the angle of these cracks would tell us something about the molecular structure of granite. They certainly tell us a few things about water. At least I think so -- I assume this boulder cracked as a result of freeze/thaw expansion/contraction of water in its fissures. 

Then again, maybe it just fell from above and shattered in place. That would have been a sight to behold.

Interestingly broken boulder, Desolation Wilderness, 2012.

Below is a shot of the reflection of some glacial polish on a slab of granite on the south shore of Middle Velma Lake. Imagine: a slab of ice atop this surface, thick enough to weigh down the sediment between the two, enough to grind it smooth as it slid, ever so slowly.

Growing up in Wisconsin, I was schooled about glaciation and its visible relics on the earth's surface today. We skied and hiked through them: drumlins, eskers, kettles, kames, and moraines are abundant there. But it wasn't until studying physical geography and geomorphology in Colorado that I learned of glacial polish. It's all deeply fascinating and awe-inspiring, especially once you set foot on a landscape where these relics exist.

Glacial polish on granite, Middle Velma Lake, Desolation Wilderness, 2012.

Falling Forward

I love the concept of walking as falling forward. I was first turned on to the concept by Milwaukee musician Willy Porter, who released an album with that title in '99.  Think about it. Stand up straight. let yourself lean forward until you are losing your balance, falling. Your reaction: a foot steps forward, breaking the fall. Move your other foot next to the first one. Repeat. You are walking.

I am a bit of a non-walking stickler. Unless I'm hiking on a trail with plants and birds to entertain me, I generally can't stand it. I use a bike to get almost everywhere in the city, and when I can't, I use a bus. If it's more than a few blocks and no bus is going my way, I will jog in whatever non-jogging clothes and shoes I'm wearing, just to get to Point B a little sooner. (This is ridiculous.)

But sometimes, when my patience is strong, I do walk, and when I do, I tend to notice stuff. And that's a good thing. It's much safer for an observant fellow to walk rather than bike. The risk of being involved in a damage-inflicting collision while blindly walking is not too great.

I recently read an inspiring post on Outside magazine's blog about a recent art-inspired environmental movement in China.  It seemed like an effective way to convey to the masses the simple beauty of walking, and the actual environmental benefit of walking. Hopefully people take that message home and change their decision process before doing something less "green" than walking.

Pedestrian-inspired tile art, NYC Subway, 2011.

Gull Footprints on the Baltic, Svetlogorsk, August 2012.