The Dam Removal Video You Have All Been Waiting For

A post by Anne JeffersonThis summer we were treated to not one but two dam removals on the Cuyahoga River, ~10 miles downstream from Kent. Those following me on twitter know that I obsessed about these removals all summer long, first as they were delayed by weeks of high water, then as they got started and I got to watch first on the live “dam cam” and then in person. But the video compresses a whole summer of waiting, watching, and obsessing into two and a half glorious minutes, complete with music. This is, without a doubt, what youtube was invented for.*

If that dam removal video merely served to whet your appetite for dam busting, I have a few other videos you might enjoy. First, there’s there’s an excellent 8 minute documentary on Marmot Dam on the Sandy River, Oregon, which explains the science that led up to this removal, features the excitable Gordon Grant, and shows the action unfolding. If you just want to cut to the action, you can’t beat the “blow and go” (that would be the technical term) of the Condit Dam removal in Washington. Finally, a feature length movie called DamNation is coming our way in 2014. I’m so excited, I can hardly stand it. I’m going to go watch the videos a few more times.

*Youtube was also invented for flash flood videos, videos of people running rapids on the Grand Canyon, the Lake Peigneur disaster video, and corny videos produced by sewer districts about CSOs.

Categories: by Anne, geomorphology, hydrology, outcrops, society

Scenic Saturday: a ravishing roadcut

In the coming semester, I’m teaching a Tectonics and Orogeny course, which will include a field trip to the Appalachians to check out the closest accessible example of tectonics and orogeny look like up close. A successful field trip comes from visiting good outcrops, so yesterday and today I’ve been visiting the area I’m planning to bring my students to in an attempt to find them. Some are quite easy to find, such as the spectacular road cut syncline at Sidling Hill:

As well as giving an inkling of the impressive scale of folding generated by the continental collision between Laurentia (North America) and Gondwana (Africa) that formed the Appalachians, the range of rock types on display here provide some information on what was going on before the orogeny hit – and provides evidence that whilst mountain building might mess things up, it doesn’t always destroy the evidence of what went before. In the Appalachians, this includes a much older collisional event one billion years ago, rifting to create an ancient ocean (the Iapetus) and a lot of subduction and microcontinent collisions as it closed again. You can’t see all of that in this particular outcrop, of course – but there are places that you can.

The other thing you can see when considering this outcrop is evidence that the Appalachians are an old mountain belt. The fact that we have a syncline at the top of a ridge, rather than an arch-like anticline, tells us that the major controls on the landscape we see today are not the forces that created this fold , but the slower but relentless forces of erosion that are slowly returning the mountains back to sea level. And where erosion dominates, it is the hard rocks – such as the sandstone in the core of this syncline – that survive the longest.

Here’s hoping that I can find the outcrops that tell these stories the best.

Categories: outcrops

Is your child experimenting with…geology?

A post by Chris RowanIt’s been a busy couple of days for me – a flurry of activity surrounding a big paper resubmission has necessitated several hours playing with python to produce some pretty new plots – and by ‘playing’ I mean ‘getting frustrated as I test the limits of my meagre coding skills’. Sadly, last night’s palliative was not really appropriate for a morning work session, so I amused myself on the internet instead, with the help of a few other geotweeps.

http://storify.com/allochthonous/is-your-child-experimenting-with-geology

Feel free to add your own suggestions in the comments. It starts with pebbles on the beach, see. But before you know it, you’re on the real hard rock stuff…

Categories: geology

Scenic Saturday: It’s good to be home edition

Rocks and trees in foreground, river in midground, brick railway depot in background.

Cuyahoga River in downtown Kent, Ohio, early evening, August 2013. Photo by A. Jefferson

Categories: by Anne, photos

The pulse of the Earth’s surface

A post by Chris RowanOn the Earth, matter is always in motion. We all learn about the water cycle at school – the fact that, thanks to energy from the sun, and the Earth’s surface being in a temperature range where water can exist in its solid, liquid and gaseous forms, H2O is continuously shuttled from oceans to atmosphere to land and back into the oceans via rivers again. Put simply, the Earth consists of a series of connected boxes full of varying levels of stuff (we normally refer to them as ‘reservoirs’, because it sounds more science-y that way) that is continuously being shunted around from one box to another. The speed at which an individual piece of stuff – water, carbon, nitrogen, and a panoply of other elements and compounds – moves between different boxes can be pretty rapid, but in a complicated system like the Earth, the total amount of stuff in each box often reaches an uneasy balance – despite all the movement and activity, the amount of stuff in each box remains fairly constant, giving the appearance of stability despite all the furious activity behind the scenes*. But this balance can be altered: change one of these fluxes, even a little bit, and all of the boxes may end up filling or emptying to a different state. As geologists we are generally interested in longer term changes, but the most obvious example of this is the seasons: reduce the amount of solar energy reaching the ground in the Northern hemisphere, and more water vapour and water becomes ice. Carbon is also shunted between the ground and the atmosphere as plants grow and prosper in the spring and summer, and then die or go dormant in the autumn and winter: this is what causes the sawtooth pattern superimposed on the worrisome upward trend of atmospheric CO2 concentrations.

The Keeling Curve

Atmospheric CO2 concentrations measured at the Mauna Loa Observatory since 1958.

But you don’t just have to take my, or a dry old graph’s, word for it: now, thanks to the latest NASA cloud-free satellite imagery, you can see it. And its mesmerising.

Click to access large versions at John Nelson's blog. You won't regret it.

Click to access large versions. You won’t regret it.

This animation comes courtesy of John Nelson (who seems to have a talent for awesome geological visualisations). His post is titled ‘The Breathing Earth’, and its easy to see why. The waxing and waning of the ice sheets is impressive, but I’m just as fascinated with the physical manifestation of that seasonal sawtooth in the Keeling Curve – patches of green vegetation waxing, waning, and migrating in time with the seasons. I strongly suggest finding a large monitor and loading up one of the large versions of these images available on John’s site. It’s a visual and intellectual treat.

*this is known as ‘dynamic equilibrium‘ or ‘steady-state’, also a feature of many of the more interesting chemical reactions.

Categories: geology, links