Bandit

When people ask what the highlight of my trip to Australia was, one would think that I would tout the merits of some of the world's oldest rocks.  That I would brag about the impressive stromatolites, elusive ashes, or distinct mud cracks that I was forunate enough to witness first hand.  But no, it is not these natural marvels that I describe; rather, I sheepishly have to admit, it was Bandit that caught my attention and my affection. 

Bandit was our companion and trusted sidekick for the entire six week adventure.  We depended on him and he always pulled through no matter what obstacles we had in front of us.  Bandit was our rented Toyota Land Cruiser.  The vehicle was simple in its amenities and strong under the hood.  It was the perfect car for taking across barren land far from any mechanic, garage, or even house.  There were no power windows, DVD players, or comfortable seats.  We were just happy that the heaters blasted hot air, the windshield wipers never left any streaks, and the 4WD refused to become stuck.


Bandit is the one on the left.  The Beast is Jon and Christine's Cruiser on the right.

What Bandit was lacking in decorative frills, he made up for with his practical add ons.  When we pick Bandit up from Complete Car Rental, the gracious Aussie mentioned that the car had a long distance tank upgrade.  He warned us that even though the gas gauge would appear not to be working, it was because the fuel was still be supplied by the extended tank, and therefore would seem to stay full longer than expected.  We nodded and smiled, but did not realize the longevity of - what we ended up calling - the super tank until we hit the road.  Bandit crisscrossed southern Australia and I can count on one hand the number of times we stopped at a gas station.  We marveled at, yet another perk of this amazing machine, while waiting patiently for Christine and Jon to fill their tank yet again. 

I like to believe that my amazing coordination and reflexes allowed me to navigate some seemingly impassable roads, but really Bandit deserves the majority of the credit.  This car was amazing and I think - if put to the challenge - could have climbed Everest.  The thing was an unstopable force to be reckoned  with.  You would just put it in first gear, point the tires in the right direction, and Bandit would take care of the rest.  

Off-road driving is an exhilarating thrill that no photo or video can truly capture.  Catherine, Bandit, and I spent the majority of our driving hours navigating tracks.  Tracks are the roads that the various homesteads use.  Most of the tracks traverse the property connecting various wells and shearing sheds to the main roads.  These tracks vary in their quality and use.  Some were well maintained dirt roads while others were washed out, faint impressions left on the desert floor.  In all of our travels, Bandit came out strong with only two flat tires and a few scratches to his paint job. 
 

Quality dirt track in the Flinders National Park.

  

Barely visible track .



Mud was just falling off of Bandit after one especially muddy day.  Rock hammer for scale.

Bandit admiring the view.

Is Bigger Better?

It is a brilliant melding of cultures working in Australia with a British citizen who has spent the last five years living in New Jersey.  Catherine is drawn to the United States, but rightfully so holds her British identiy close and with pride.  It was hilarious - from my persective - when a local Aussie was surprised that she was in fact British.  "Oh I thought you just had an affluent American accent".  Despite her greatest efforts, she has become - to some degree - Americanized.  With such a global world where travel and trade between countries is so common place, our identities can easily become blurred and confusing.  But it seems, the big bully in social expansion remains the Untied States.

In between hammering on rock, our discussions danced between topics such as the royal family, fashion, cuisine, and Walmart.  We speculated and theorized on the so-called Americanization of the globe.  Nations around the world obsess over everything American: fast food, Hollywood, Wall Street and more.  There is something intoxicatingly appealing about American society, choice, and capitalism that others cannot resist.  And yet, these same people that may marvel at the lights of Vegas, push Americanism away, mocking our arrogance, confidence and desire for stuff.   There is a palatable envy veiled in skepticism toward our style and pace of life.  But is the American way ideal?  Is bigger better?  Is it possible to have too much choice?  Is the world losing something of a greater value as more countries embrace material wealth?

As an anecdote attempting to represent the internal debate I am having, I would like to consider the Austrlian grocery store.  Catherine and I did our big shopping for the six week adventure while in Adelaide.  This metropolis is Australia's fifth biggest city (Phoenix  is the 5th largest in the US), and we went to one of Adelaide's largest grocery stores.  When I say one of the largest grocery stores in the 5th largest city, I immediately imagine the Whole Foods, Wegman's, Super Walmarts of Australia.  I assume a large, spacious store filled with more variety and choice than one person will ever need.  Each department will lure you in with decor that sells the particular products.  The fruits and vegetables will be displayed in pseudo carts and  and apple barrels.  Not only will the deli display cases be filled with countless types of picnic salads and cold-cuts, but a self serve bar will provide additional easy, healthy to-go meal choices.  There would be a large organic section sporting earthy hues and natural products.  There would be a whole aisle dedicated to cereal and another for chips.  When considering something as basic as canned corn, there would be at least a half dozen types (sweet, cream, low sodium, no sugar added, with chilies, all natural etc.) marketed by at least that many different brands.  Yet my expectations were completely and utterly American, and I was no longer in America.

As I walked into the the largest that South Australia had to offer, I felt like I was stepping back in time.  It reminded me of the grocery stores of the 80's or Rutland's Grand Union of today.  When I was 10 (the year was 1988) the first super grocery store, Shaws, came to my hometown in Maine.  I remember the wow factor.  The store was seemingly endless .   I followed my mom around the store in a daze marveling at the size and brightness and wondering what was wrong with the old store down the street.  And yet now, just two decades later, I cannot fathom anything less.

The store in Adelaide did not greet you with an ostentatious entrance or marketing designed to draw you into unnecessary purchases before even reaching your cart.  Standing on the store's threshold, I immediately became skeptical, doubting that it was even possible to find all that we needed for our trip.  I was pleasantly surprised.  We wondered up and down simple aisles of products.   While there was not an entire bay dedicated to granola, the one they did have was a great combination of oats, nuts, fruit, and rice crisps.  Jif, Skippy, Peter Pan, natural, fat free did not exist.  Rather, there was one peanut butter brand called Nuts.  The choice went only so far as to decide between chunky and smooth.  We got chunky.  We left the store well equipped and with more food than any two people could every possibly need in six weeks.  The grocery store was small and simple, and yet it provided all the essentials as well as many novelties.  The sparseness of the store ultimately streamlines your task at hand.  There is no need to contemplate the pros and cons of each selection.  Instead, you take the product that is there and move on without any regret or question.

Even more bruising to my American pride and sensibility then the realization that my homeland's stores may be a tad excessive, came when I discovered that despite our bounty, there were a couple of products that I have never experienced in the US.  Catherine commiserated with me in a subtly mocking tone asking, "how is it possible that these products do not exist in the US?"   Two of the items that  America would do well to adopt include Hoyt's sun-dried tomatoes and Tim Tams.  The sun-dried tomatoes come in a large plastic container with delicious, plump tomatoes suspended in sunflower oil and swimming amongst garlic chunks and capers.  Every time we used the tomatoes in the field, I would fantasize about an America that carried this delicacy.  I contemplated different dishes I could include them in: pizza, bread, salads, soups, appetizers, snacks, pasta, the list goes on.  The second Australian must have that seems not to exist in the United States is the remarkable Tim Tam.  These bar like cookies remind me of a thicker version of the Girl Scout Thin Mint.  What makes them better than the Scout's treat?  You do not need to wait until the Brownie knocks on your door with her overpriced list of must have cookies.  Tim Tams are a treat Australians appreciate year round.

So is bigger better?  I still am not sure, but the choice is yours.

A Summary for the Sis

At 8PM on the day after my sister Alison's birthday, I called her and sang a round of Happy Birthday.  This meant that in the States it was 6:30AM on her actual birthday.  At one point, we started talking about this blog and when I asked her what she thought, she she was brutally honest.  "You need to be more clear on what you are actually doing in Australia."  I was befuddled thinking that is exactly what I had been doing, but I suppose there was not cohesive run down on the daily objectives.  So with less than a week left in the field season, I will attempt to answer her question and summarize the work we have been completing.  Catherine, Adam, and whoever else are welcome to enhance, comment, and correct this post as they see fit.

First day in the field!

First of all, it should be mentioned that this is Catherine's last field season.  So in many ways, she is tying up loose ends and pulling all of the unfinished pieces together.  As a result, much of the work seems disconnected in a variety of different locations throughout Southern Australia.  Many of the field sites produced less than ideal outcrops to investigate.   From Catherine's perspective, the dead-ends and disappointing quality have been frustrating at times.  However, it has been great from my perspective as it means that I can see many different areas of South Australia all the way from the southern Flinders Mountain Ranges north to a small outpost called Marree.

A good example of the outcrop we were studying.  Notice how the distinctive layers continue into the distance like linear ribbons.  However, this bedrock exposure is not vertically continuous as modern day sediments cover the area in between the beds.

Catherine's PhD focuses on the NeoProterozoic (end of the Precambrian) rocks.  Her main focus is on the formations Trezona, Elatina , and Nuccaleena which were previously described in another post.  She has spent countless hours hunting down these rocks, recording their positioning, collecting samples, and analyzing their chemical composition.  All of these efforts are done with the hope of better understanding the paleoclimate at the time the rocks were deposited.  While understanding any time period in the Earth's history creates a more complete understanding of the transitions that the planet has experienced, these particular formations are especially interesting due to the drastic and rapid (geologically speaking) climate changes that the rocks suggest.   Trezona - warm ocean, Elatina - glacial ice deposits, Nuccaleena - another warm ocean.  In addition, these formations occurred right around one of Earth's greatest biological transformation.  A division in the geological time scale is placed between the Proterozoic and Phanerozoic because of this notable change in life.   Prior to the Phanerozoic, only bacteria thrived on our presently biologically rich planet.  Bacteria did quite well for themselves dominating the seas for over three billion years.  At the end of the Proterozoic and beginning of the Phanerozoic, the diversity in life exploded.  No longer was it only bacteria, but life on Earth also included many multi-celled animals and organisms.  This transition occurred approximately 500 million years ago.  The Trezona rocks formed about 650m.y.a. on the eve of this major transformation.  Catherine's research adds additional insight in the events that may possibly have led to this remarkable change.  

So how do we begin to complete the story of a time so long ago?  Well first of all, we need to find the ideal location to complete the research.  Australia stands out as a preferable country to work in for a number of reasons both politically and geologically.  As a relatively safe, English speaking country, with a stable government, and welcoming people, it is an easy landscape to navigate as foreigners interested in learning about their rocks.  The rocks themselves in Australia are also advantageous for study since the continent has remained tectonically stable with minimal deformation over the past billion years.  In addition, the Outback is an arid climate which results in relatively slow rates of weathering and erosion.  Such conditions provide an ideal situation for the preservation of some of the world's oldest rocks. 

Despite the comparative quality of Australia's rocks to those in other parts of the world, the formations are still over a half- billion years old.  Things are never as fresh and straight forward after so many years of abuse.  This means the rocks we are looking for are often broken with younger rocks covering them.  The atmospheric elements and tectonic disturbances have distorted and altered the rock surface that we look at; therefore, Catherine must navigate through the modern landscape looking for places where these ancient rocks poke through the more recent deposits.  Once this concrete data is collected, the areas not containing outcrops must be elaborated upon and filled in to create a complete picture of the Earth's past and attempt to explain the changes occurring over a half a billion years ago.  Catherine's research uses her meticulous detailed work to explain the disorganized incompleteness of nature that is observed in the field.  She looks at seemingly uninteresting chunks of rock that poke out of flat Australian plains and provides a story and explanation for their existence and placement.  She considers these rock outcrops on both a macro and micro level.  In the field, we focus primarily on two  techniques - mapping and stratigraphic sections.  In the lab, she will spend countless hours considering the geochemical composition of the samples we have collected. 

Mapping:

Mapping focuses on the big picture.  We covered many miles, navigating our way from one outcrop to the next identifying the rock type, determining its orientation (which direction is it tipping and pointing), and drawing  their position onto mylar paper that overlays an aerial photo.  Once the actual locations of outcrop are recorded on the photo, it is like completing a connect the dots picture.  The known points of rock outcrop are connected creating a more complete picture of the rock layer positions across the landscape.

Aerial photo with mapped rock formations.

Mylar is like thick tracing paper that can overlay the aerial photo.

Catherine filling in the aerial photo map while in the field.  

Stratigraphic Section:

Stratigraphic sections look at one particular area in incredible detail.  We find a location where there is considerable quality outcrop, preferably including all of the different formations we are studying.  We try to walk perpendicularly to the rock layers, generally from the oldest layer towards the youngest layer.  As we walk, there are a number of things to consider: thickness of the layer, changes in the lithology (rock type), and any other interesting observations.  The thickness of layers are determined by using a large, L-shaped, metric stick.  We start at the first outcrop of the oldest formation we are studying.  This point on the ground is considered 0 meters.  By estimating the dip of the beds, the stick is tilted so that the measurement represents the thickness of the bed prior to deformation.  By eyeballing the line created by the top of the stick, you sight the furthest measured point.  Then you move to the next location and repeat the process.  This technique is easy where the rock exposure is of high quality and the beds are dipped directly perpendicular to our path.  The challenge is when the outcrop is obscured by sediments or tilted at different angles from the direction of our cross-section line.      

Catherine measures a nicely exposed, nearly vertical section of rock beds.  She will work her way up, stratigraphically measuring the thickness of the layers.

Catherine working her way through a lousy section.  Modern sediments have covered the outcrop in this particular section  Notice the outcrop behind her.  You will have to believe us that there is more rock exposure ahead of her.  

As we move along the section recording any notable observations and changes occurring, we also collect various rock samples which are then shipped back to Princeton.  Why ship rock samples half way around the world?  These seemingly insignificant chips of rock carry with them varying ratios of isotopes.  Elements such as carbon are made up of neutrons, protons and electrons.  An isotope is a version of an element that has more or less neutrons than one would expect to find.  The ratio of particular isotopes within a sample provides clues about the climate at the time the rocks were deposited.  And so, after the field season is over, we visit DHL with buckets of rocks that will make their way over the Pacific Ocean and United States and await Catherine's undivided attention and analysis back in the Princeton lab.

Trezona beds up close.  We sampled the carbonate rocks which are the layers that are recessed and lighter in color.

Me attempting to break a piece of carbonate free.

Catherine holding a bag of samples as well as one of the sampled carbonates.  The number written on the rock tells us how high in the stratigraphic section the rock was located.

Clast Counts:

The final piece of field work that we focused on was clast counts within a stratigraphic section.  Clasts are rock chunks that have broken off from some other larger rock.  Glaciers are infamous for ripping rocks apart, transporting these pieces, and then haphazardly dropping the clasts at some distant location.   Rock that has been deposited by glaciers reminds me of a Jello salad.  You know those really unappetizing jiggling side dishes that always show up on the Thanksgiving table filled with canned fruit cocktail and held together by the gelatin.  In this analogy, the Jello would be the fine grained matrix of the glacial rock and the fruit cocktail would be all of the different types of clasts suspended within the matrix.  The clasts we looked at included granites, limestones, basalts, sandstones, and quartzites to name a few.  We would measure the size of the clasts and note what type of rock they were.  If possible we would note the direction the clasts were oriented.  Understanding the clasts within these glacial deposited rocks helps Catherine understand and explain the movements of the glaciers that occurred so long ago.

Glacial formed rock (tilite)

 Tilite up close

Ultimately, we have spent the past six weeks scouring areas in Southern Australia with these particularly aged rocks.  Once all of the data from this field work (and Catherine's last four years) is compiled, the hope is that a more complete and conclusive story of the Precambrian Earth's overall environment and Australia's geological landscape will present itself.  This is our Australian field work is a very small, limited nutshell.  How did I do Alison . . . Catherine?

Last day in the field

Snakes Part II

We recently went to the Witchelina Homestead which was described to us by the locals in Leigh Creek as recently purchased by the Greens.  Catherine and I both envisioned a Mr. and Mrs. Green with a couple of kids and dogs setting up home and making a go of it on the Outback's arid landscape.  In fact, "the Greens" meant that the homestead was purchased by an Australian conservation group and is being transformed into a preserve.  Bottom line -  there was not going to be a family on the homestead for us to ask permission to go on the land.  Since the telephone number was out of service, and we did not have a number for the "Greens Conservation Association", we decided to head to the Witchelina Homestead and take our chances that some sort of manager lives on the premise.  

Witchelina is over 40 km off the main road on the way to Marree.  It is truly in the middle of nowhere.   We drove down the dirt track (road) for over an hour and finally came upon the homestead which was set back behind a barbed wire fence and locked gate.  When we arrived, there were two potential buildings with occupants.  One had a relatively new Jeep parked in front of it.  The other was larger and had the hum of a generator running near it.  We headed to the big house first.  It was eerie.  There were children's toys scattered on the porch, yet considering the dust collecting on their surface none of them had been played with for some time.  We knocked on all the doors and called out greetings, but the only response was the mechanical growl of the generator.  

We then turned and headed to the second house.  Smaller in size, but with the vehicle parked in front we were hopeful.  As we neared the house, we could hear pots and pans moving and voices inside.  The house was occupied by a young man and woman in their  late twenties early thirties.  We introduced ourselves, and Catherine asked about the possibility of going on the property.  The young man, Mike, apologetically explained that he too was a student who was just there for a weeks worth of field research.  What kind of research - snake research.  He gave Catherine the number of a gentleman in Adelaide to contact in order to get permission to go on the land.  While Catherine explained our situation and negotiated the options on the phone, I made small talk with Mike and his assistant.  

He is a biologist that is studying the genetic changes that occur in some of Australia's deadliest snakes.  He explained that the color patterns on snakes change at various times and he is trying to better understand why and how.  Fascinated by anyone with a desire to deliberately seek out these venomous reptiles, I immediately had a million questions.  Here are some of his answers as best as my over stimulated mind can remember them.

1. In the Wichalena area, Mike estimates there are as many as 2 brown snakes every 10 square meters.

2. Brown snakes, while not as deadly as the Taipan, can bite you without you knowing and the venom can be difficult to counter act .  These are facts that in hindsight I wish I had inquired more about.  Like how in the heck are you bitten unknowingly by a deadly snake?!?

3. At this time of the year, their body temperature is the same as it is in the summer and they are moving around just as much.

4. While these snakes are very dangerous, it is costly for them to use their venom and so they would rather hide or move away than attack.

5. They often like to hang out hear their dens.

6. Their dens are abandoned mice holes (note: We see hundreds of such holes a day). 

7. The best way to move through the bush is to keep your eyes peeled for these camouflaged reptiles and make noise so as not to startle them.

I asked Mike how he collected genetic DNA in the field.  He responded that they can't do it in the field, rather they bring the snakes back to Adelaide and run tests there.  This new information was slow to process.  Finally it occurred to me that this means any snakes they found were now somewhere nearby.  In fact, they had 6 brown snakes in the back room of the cabin.  The door to the room had a small Post It note that said "caution venomous snakes inside".   Considering the fact that we were their first visitors, I wondered about the seriousness of the note.  He offered to show me his latest catch.  It included two snakes - one male and one female.  They were two large, feisty, angry brown snakes coiled together in the bottom of a large canvas bag with a handle that reminded me of a butterfly net.  At this point ,Catherine was off the phone, and Mike asked if we wanted to stick around while that transferred the snakes into the individual sacks (aka pillow cases duct taped shut).  Intrigued, like spectators to a car accident, we could not refuse.  He recommended that we stand by the door for an easy exit in case one got loose.  There was no need to ask us twice.  Catherine and I wedged ourselves on the wall right next to the screen door with one hand on the door knob at all times.  Mike then used a large claw like device to remove one of the snakes from the original canvas bag.  With the snake's neck (or at least body nearest the head) pinched in the vice, he then grabbed the snake by the tail and let gravity pull its fangs towards the ground.  The female snake was especially angry, and attempted to twist back on itself towards its captor's bare hand, but with a reassured flick of Mike's wrist, its head fell back down towards the ground.  I have never seen anyone seem so calm and so fluid when dealing with something so deadly.  While holding the tail with one hand and opening the pillow case with the claw, he coaxed the snake to slither into the case.  Once in there, he slid his foot down the bag forcing the snake deeper into the sack.  With the snake then fully encased the pillow case, the end was taped, folded and taped again.  All this occurred before 10AM!

Needless to say, Mike's knowledge, ease, comfort, and reassurance around the snakes both set Catherine and me on edge and comforted us as we headed out into the field for the day.  Many times over the next few days, one of us would jump back or gasp uncontrollably, adrenaline rushing through our bodies after sighting a remarkable snake like stick or seeing a flicker of our own shadows.  It was not until about a week later, while we were sitting around the campfire that I went to reach for an actual poker stick next to me and realized at the last minute that my stick was in fact moving.  This snake was much smaller - less than a meter long with a diameter around the size of a penny.  Are smaller snakes less poisonous?  How close is its den?  Why is it out at night?  Were there others nearby?  All our questions fell unanswered in between high pitched squeals as we flashed our headlamps around the campsite.  If only Mike were around with his calm demeanor to set us once again at ease.

Dating an Ash

Students often want to know how "we" - the scientific community - know how old a particular rock formation is.  Its not like anyone was around during the Earth's early formation to document its "first steps".  There is no Wikipedia page outlining the year each layer was formed  Rather, we have to collect clues from the rocks themselves in order to constrain the age of the various bedding layers that we are studying.  There are two ways to consider how old a rock formation is: relative dating and absolute dating.  Relative dating is not asking your cousin out for coffee; rather, it is when we compare the age of one layer to the next.  Most of the time, the oldest layers will be on the bottom and younger layers will be on top.  It is the equivalent of saying: I am younger than my mother, but older than my sister.  Absolute dating is giving an actual number age to a particular rock.  I am 33 y.o. (years old), my mom is 62 y.o., and my sister is 29 y.o.  We know the ages of my family because of birth certificates and the fact that people have been around long enough to document each year of our lives.  

The best way to give an absolute age for a rock formation is to locate an igneous rock.   Molten rock that is ejected from a volcano will create igneous rocks.  The ash debris spit out from a volcano can cool and create an igneous (or ash) layer as well.  The benefit of the ash layers are that they can travel great distances by currents in our atmosphere far away from the original volcano.  Within the ash layers, there are small grains called zircons.  Zircon isotopes will decay at a certain rate (half life).  If we know the rate of decay, analysis of the amount of decay that has occurred will determine an age of the zircon; and therefore, the age of the ash layer it is found within.  As I mentioned in the previous entry, there is only one layer that has been positively dated in this area of Australia placing the rocks at approximately 635 mya.  Ideally, more ash layers will be located.  The more positively dated layers, the more accurately we can pinpoint the ages of the various formations.  For instance, if there are multiple ash layers with one located at the bottom and one at the top of the Trezona formation, we would be able to determine when and for how long this paleo-environment lasted.  Such a scenario of formations bookended with identified ashes is somewhat of a fairy tale in geology world.  Regardless, we are intrepid and ready to begin a search for the desireable ashes. 

Such was our quest!  Last field season four potential ash layers were located and sampled by the Princeton team.  Two of those previously sampled provided good dates, and two seemed less reliable.  Our goal this season is to relocate these ashes, collect more samples for analysis, follow them laterally, and hunt for additional layers in other locations.  We have GPS locations for the four previous ash layers and a written description for an additional one.  Not too bad, sounds doable.  Bring on the ash.

Ash hunting days are not always the most, shall we say, rewarding days.  I have been informed that ashes tend to be recessed layers.  Although, depending on the deposition of the ash, it can create a solid resistant layer.  The rock tends to be green (but one of the previous sampled ashes was red) that may or may not be sparkly.  Can we say needle in a hay stack!  Yesterday, Catherine and I worked our way through three separate locations of possible ash sightings.  The outcrops consisted of 20 plus feet of alternating red and green siltstone.  These siltstones maintain various levels of weathering resistance.  Some are crumbling debris layers.  Others are resistant ridges.  In the sun, many of them sparkle with secondary micas and other glittery minerals.  Standing on the side of one such cliff, armed with my rock hammer and hand-lens, I began to understand why there has only been one positively dated ash layer in the area - they are elusive and difficult to distinguish (at least for me).  In the end, we confidently resampled one of the three previously sampled ashes and the jury is still out on our success in locating the additional ashes.  Catherine has informed me that we can never do more than one ash hunting day in a row  as it is soul destroying, and I am considering the possible use of mood enhancers.  Stay posted on our future successes in Operation Ash Location! 

Three possible ash layers.
The oldest layer is about a meter below where Catherine is standing.  The second potential ash is the layer she is standing on and the youngest is where she is pointing.

Tea Time

When I came to Australia, I anticipated learning many new things about the geology of Australia.  And while I will return to my homeland saddled with a new recognition for field work, a greater understanding of the Trezona formation, and a budding ability to identify siltstone and carbonate; one of the greatest skills I have gained, revolves around a regular morning ritual.  Living six weeks with a Brit has instilled in me a new appreciation for the art of tea preparation.  Tea is not simply the watery drink that can substitute for coffee in a pinch.  It is a delectable drink that is only truly enjoyable when prepared under the correct conditions.  I have promised Catherine that as a liaison to the United States, I will do my best to educate my fellow Americans on the proper way to prepare, serve, and consume this often over looked beverage.  

Catherine and I enjoy Tea at the Copley Cafe

Step one: Boil water - this is the critical step that many Americans overlook.  This does not mean warm water, steaming water, or even water with the beginning boil bubbles collecting on the pan's surface.  This is a full on rolling boil *.  A convenient, affective way to achieve the necessary water temperature is to use an electric kettle**.

Step two: Pour boiling water over tea bag***.

Step three: Allow the bag to steep until rounded in flavor****.

Step four: Doctor tea as you see fit -  milk (2% or higher), sugar, etc.

Step five: Enjoy*****  I have to say that by following these simple guidelines I have experienced some of the best cups of tea.  All of a sudden, Lipton tea has been turned into a complete experience.

* Such a boil is impossible to achieve at higher elevations without the use of a pressure cooker.  To my Rocky Mountain friends, you may want to just skip the rest of this blog if such a cooker is not available to you at this time.

** When purchasing this boiling device, make sure that the box says electric kettle.  The hot pot is NOT an acceptable substitute as the 100 degrees centigrade will be impossible to achieve with the plastic bottomed basin.

*** Tea selection can be quite tricky in the United States as many of our teas are considerably weaker than the European counterpart and/or fruity in flavor.  (These directions are only good for black teas.  Disregard directions for green or fruit teas).  Apparently, Tazo loose leaf tea (which can only be purchased at Starbucks for an exorbitant price) comes even remotely close to achieving the correct potency. 

**** Apparently rounded flavor should occur in approximately one minute, but adjust to your personal preference.

***** As a contentious consumer, I often reused tea bags before permanently discarding.  This is a huge atrocity that sent Catherine into a substantial tirade revolving around the ignorance of a good cup of tea.

A rolling boil

Kangaroos

Christine is also maintaining a blog regarding her adventures in Australia.  At first glance, she is far more tech savvy then I am.  Her blog sports a nice image of Australia in the background and utilizes additional pages really well.  She also has two fun side bar features.  There is a count down clock that continually counts the seconds, minutes, hours, weeks that they have been in the field and she also has a Kangaroo count where she updates how many kangaroo sightings she has had while out and about.  I thought the roo counter was a great idea and debated hijacking her idea and adding it to my own blog.  When I mentioned it to Catherine, she laughed saying that it was going to be impossible to keep up with the roo counter as these pocketed mammals are EVERYWHERE.  I was dubious, especially after my first week in the field.  Our first field site location was at Oodnapanicken Bore.  This was a remote location over an hour in on a rough dirt track.  From there, we would hike over four hours away from any semblance of a track.  You would expect wild life to teem in such an isolated location, yet if I had had a roo counter it would have maybe topped out at 10 - 20 max.  All of these sightings were distant and fleeting.  I would whip out my camera and attempt to capture the exotic kangaroo only to have an image dominated by red earth and desert foliage.  Somewhere in the middle would be an indistinguishable, fuzzy blur that represents a fleeing wild roo that has recognized our presence from over a kilometer away and is making a fast break in the opposite direction.  Needless to say, the only kangaroos that I could get even remotely close to were in various stages of decomposition on the side of the road.  

Despite my slow start, Catherine's prediction was accurate.  This past week we spent in Flinders National Park.  The park is teaming with Winnebegoes, retired tourists, young kids on break, and crazy amounts of wildlife.  Kangaroos are so common place that I do not even get excited at a sighting.  It would be the equivalent of pulling out the camera to document every grey squirrel in Rutland.  After being in the park no more than fifteen minutes, we had seen dozens of kangaroos and multiple flocks of emus.  There were green parrots as well as colorful gallahs.  After setting up our tents, we made our way towards the information center.  Wedged between the shower house and manicured tent sites a mother kangaroo with a joey poking out of her pouch munched on some campground clover.  You will have to believe me that I was no more than ten feet away from the mother, since my camera was sitting in the car on the other side of the campround.  Grrr!!!!  

I measured that there mountain with this here yellow stick!

While this field season includes a variety of different projects, much of Catherine's work has revolved around detailed stratigraphic sections.  This work entails walking perpendicular to the beds and measuring the thickness of each layer.  This quickly becomes complicated as beds dip and tilt at odd angles to the direction that one is walking.  We attempt to correct for this change in the layers formation by tilting the measuring stick at an angle parallel to the beds and sighting a point on the ground.  Then you walk to that sighted location and repeat the previous steps.  Such is the process we followed in order to reach the top of the hill in the background of this picture.  Just a a side note, it was a damp, cold, super windy day when we did this work.  Two words . . . Hard Core!

Rock Formations

So there are a series of rock formations that Catherine and I are looking at.  Noted from the oldest to youngest.

Balcanoona (aka Etina) - Is a carbonate layer.  These are rocks made out of calcium carbonate, and therefore will bubble when in contact with acid.  In order for carbonate to form, there needs to be a relatively shallow, warm water sea that interacts with the atmosphere. 

Trezona - This is also a carbonate layer; however, often it is interbedded with siltstones which are formed in a deeper ocean environment.  This formation has a variety of exciting features.  There are ripples as well as stromatolites.  Stromatolites are a primitive life form that are believed to be one of Earth's earliest life forms.  Currently, stromatolites are only found in extreme locations such as Buzzard's Bay in Australia which has a very high salinity.  Stromatolites are formed by layers of algae mats and sediment.  The algae creates a sticky surface which sediment will adhere to.  As the layers of sediment and algae build on one another, mushroom like structures will form.  The stromatolites that I saw preserved in the Trezona varied in size from those smaller than my thumb to as large as a mini fridge.  As you walk over these seemingly insignificant rocks, it is fun to imagine what Earth must have been like at the time that these stromatolites dominated our seas.  

Stromatolite - note coin for scale

Note coin on right hand side of the stromatolite

Meditating on top of a massive stromatolite - meditator for scale

In between, the the stromatolite mounds, there are other interesting structures to be found.  Adam, Catherine, and the other Princeton colleagues noticed repeating shapes in the Trezona formation.  They found three repeating shape stuctures.  There were ones shaped like an H, a Y, and rectangles with either two or three spots in them.  After analyzing the different pieces of debris found in between the stromatolites, it has been proposed that these shapes represent different perspectives of a primitive sponge.  

I am pointing to the structure with two circles in it

Yaltipena - is a silt layer that has distinct feature specific to shallow water environments.  There are many layers of this red siltstone filled with ripple marks and mud cracks.  In some cases, the ripple marks will criss-cross one another creating a tic-tack-toe affect.  This shows that water currents changed directions in the particular area.  The mud-cracks formed in an environment where the sediments alternated with exposure to the air and covered by shallow water.  Think about areas influenced by tides. 

Cross-bedding - ripple marks preserved in profile

Ripple marks (top left hand) Mud cracks (lower right hand)

Modern mud cracks

Elatina - is the diamictite previously described in the last blog.  It is a formation created by glacial movements.  The rock matrix tends to be red in color and dominated by clasts of all different sizes and lithology (type).

Nuccaleena - is a dolomite (carbonate that has been chemically altered).  It is distinctive in its buttery color.

Snakes

When I first started telling people that I was traveling to Australia, many responded - Oh watch out for the snakes.  It is true that Australia is home to many of the world's most deadly reptiles, but Catherine assured me that the winter landscape is a benign land where all those things that bite, sting, and kill are tucked away deep in hibernation.  Catherine went on to assure me that in the four previous field seasons, she had never seen a snake.  In the last two days, her tally has now increased to two.  Apparently these serpents of the southern hemisphere do not always sleep for the entire winter.  

We were walking along, engrossed in the rocks and the fabulous clasts in the Elatina formation.  I noted an exceptionally large granite clast resting in the surrounding red rock.  "Catherine check out that clast."  Her response, "Oh my god!"  I thought that I may have found the clast of all clasts from the emotion imbedded in her response; however, OMG was quickly followed by "SNAKE!"  Without actually having my own visual of the beast, I screamed like a girl and tumbled backwards away from the clast and elusive snake.  

Once at a safe distance, we reassessed the situation.  The snake is an amazing animal easily disguised by the rock it sits upon.  It was over a meter long and coiled as it enjoyed the afternoon sun.  It was covered in brown spots that reminded me of a leopard's coat.  While I evaluated the snake and considered the possibility of other snakes emerging from the rock crevices, Catherine evaluated the granite clast and decided that in fact it was quite nice and would make an excellent photo.  Of all the Elatina in Australia, this clast was photo-worthy.  It was then a matter of positioning the rock hammer just under the snake's resting place in order for a scale oriented photo.  Couldn't the snake be used for scale?  Consistency - it must be the hammer.  The photo was taken and we moved much further down the creek for our lunch break.

Now, whenever I consider sitting down on an outcrop, I second guess how alone I in fact actually am and how difficult it is to awake a resting snake.

Prickles and Ripples

As I have been walking through the hills of Australia, I have had many different moments of dejavous.  Australia in my mind is a combination of many different places that I have traveled in the past.  

The vegetation reminds me of the deserts in the south west such as Joshua Tree and Death Valley.  The ground is hard packed sand and gravel that is sparsely covered with various scrubby plants that have stubbornly taken hold.   Many of them look innocent enough low to the ground with various hues of green and brown, but do not be fooled these plants are anything but innocent.  They wait for the chance bystander to step a bit too close and snag your sock with a thorn or barb of varying size.  Often times, the small poker remains elusive wedged somewhere between your sock and boot, but with every step you know it is there twisting itself into the perfect placement  to continually stab at your Achilles with a ridged prick.  Without fail, the hiker is forced to stop and contend with the unwanted prickle.  Catherine and her colleagues fondly nicknamed a particular hearty and plentiful strain of thorns the F***lettes.  There is no better name for this annoying plant although I am sure you will not find this genus next to the plant's picture in any identification book.    

As we traverse over rolling, barren hills, divided by ridges of rock outcrop it is reminiscent of Idaho.  I spent the summer after my junior year in high school building a barbed wire fence in Caters of the Moon National Monument.  It interesting because in the west fences are built with three strings of barbed wire while the top wire is smooth.  This is so the wild animals grazing can jump over the fence without becoming cut.  In Australia the bottom three wires are smooth and only the top wire is barbed.  While I have not seen it, apparently this design allows for the kangaroos and wallabies to jump through the fence unscathed.  Catherine says it is quite the sight to see a kangaroo cruise towards a fence, and then without changing its speed, it will torque its body sideways and slip between the wires. 

Australia is a vast country where it seems like yo can see forever.  There is no cover,  You can see herds of wild goats on distant ridges.  You can hear trucks motoring through side valleys, but never see them.  Distances are deceiving.  They are both close and unattainable at the same time.   Wind rips through the valley unhindered by any natural wind breaks.  Dave often complained about his distaste for wind after living in New Mexico.  I find it similar here.  I am excited on days where the air is still and my face and lips do not become chapped by the incessant wind.  

Because the vegetation is so minimal and the ground is so barren, this landscape is perfect for studying geology . . . and so we do.  The area that we have been working in has gone through major environmental changes throughout its lifetime and many of these variations are preserved in the rocks that we stand on.  The landscape is like Australia's family photo-album with moments in time preserved in the remaining rock layers.  It is our job to piece together this seemingly random collection of moments and interpret the story they create.   

Where we have focused our efforts for the last week or so is an hour drive from the town of Leigh Creek.  The area is dominated by three main types of rock: carbonate, siltstone and glacial diamictite.  The carbonate rocks form in a shallow warm sea where calcium carbonate creates solid rock. Often there are large fossilized structures created by algae mats called Stromatolites (more on these at a later time).  The red siltstones form in a deeper sea environment from the carbonates.  They are fine grained, sediments that dominate this particular area of Australia.  Diamictite is a rock consisting of two or more sediment sizes.  In the case of these particular rocks, the diamictite resulted from glacial ice gouging and ripping apart the bedrock it moved over millions of years ago.  The loose sediments are then transported miles and miles by the giant ice sheets - nature's greatest conveyor belt.  Once the ice sheet retreats, these clasts (chunks of transported rock) are deposited within a matrix of fine grained sediment.  We know that have traveled a long way because the clasts are made from rocks like granite which are not native to this area of Australia.

Diamictite - notice the larger clasts embedded in a fine-grained matrix

Looking at the patterns and positioning of carbonates versus silts versus diamictites, Catherine begins to write the story of Australia's past.  There is only one layer that has been dated at this time placing the rocks at roughly 635 m.y.a. (million years ago) - give or take you know a few million years.  

As I stand in the middle of the now desolate, barb encrusted, sunbaked, desert of the Outback, I try to imagine how this continental crust had once been covered by murky ocean water and then a shallow, warm, stromatolite rich reef, and then a massive sheet of ice and finally another warm water environment.  It is difficult to fathom what could have changed the landscape so drastically and so suddenly.

Ripple marks

Stromatolites 

Ostrich vs. Emu

I am not sure why, but I always thought that ostriches were native to Australia.  This is not the case; however, the Emu is related to the ostrich and is the oversized avian version of the ostrich in Australia.  As Catherine and I trudged back and forth across the Flinders mountain range, we would see groups of emus from afar effortlessly skipping along.   We fantasize about the possibility of harnessing an Emu and riding it across the valley.  We speculated that they would be difficult to direct and that we would not make it to our desired destinations, although we would make it somewhere at a very high speed.  

If we ever did hope to capture and domesticate one of these large birds our chance came one morning as we were preparing to head off for the day.  These normally skittish birds are generally viewed from afar as they blindly, sprint away from any noise or shadow; however, on this particular morning the Emu that visited our camp was a very curious bird.  He danced back and forth checking out the camp and seemingly sizing us up.  He would run towards us, and then whenever someone moved it would duck away, but only so far and momentarily he would return to our outpost.  For whatever reason, this particular bird was more intrigued than intimidated by our presence.  It was a great opportunity to look at this massive bird up close.

Noises in the Night

Prior to heading out into the field, Catherine received an e-mail from Jon with a succinct list of must have items before we left the comfort of Adelaide.  We immediately became weary when securing some mouse proof totes was at the top of the list.  A quick run to a Home Depot equivalent, provided us with a mouse proof arsenal of plastic products with quick click security.  This was not my first face off with rodents.  I was not scared.  They are small and timid and only after a good left over scrap dropped at your camp site.  For a complete account of the mouse encounters of Jon and Christine (poo on food canisters, vermin in tents, half chewed bags of oats) check out Christine's Blog .

Oodnapanicken Hut was our first stop of the field season.  Having kicked off early from the small town of Leigh Creek, Catherine and I arrived at the hut at 8 AM in the morning.  Jon and Christine were gracious hosts providing a cup of tea, a bowl of porridge (oatmeal), and stories of wild mice that are not intimidated by a group of soft Americans.  Jon in a calm, matter-of-fact tone, relayed how most recently he felt a mouse burrowing under his Z-rest sleeping pad as he lay on top of it.  My eyes shifted around the camp wondering if Jon's stories were an exaggeration, a fluke or a regular evening occurrence in Australia.  

With no more than this passing thought, the group split up and headed into the field for a day of work.  The days are short in Australia this time of year as it is the southern hemisphere's winter.  The light does not start to turn grey until a little after 6:30 AM and shadows begin get long by 5:30 PM.  Our field work is limited by the daylight hours and so we found ourselves back in the camp for the evening.  The four of us compared notes of the day and relaxed around the campfire until exhaustion overtook us and we all retired to our tents.  I was still feeling the affects of jet lag and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow (well actually it was my fleece jacket balled up).  There is nothing more restful than a cool night camping in the middle of nowhere.  The air pushes you deep into the folds of your sleeping bag, while the peaceful surroundings lull you into a complete sleep that is impossible to replicate in any civilized environment.  

Such was the scenario, my first night in the Outback of Australia.  At 6 AM the following morning, I was awoken by the banging of pots and rustling movement in the area of our stoves and campfire.  I was impressed with Jon's industrious nature and contemplated extracting myself from my sleeping bag.  While appreciating my last few moments of warm comfort, something large moved right outside my tent.  Sitting bolt upright mummified in my sleeping bag, I consider the chances that Jon was walking around my tent.  That was when something rammed the side of my nylon shelter.  Despite my desire to exude a tough edge, I let out a girly squeak that Catherine later confided that she heard.  I fumbled at my sleeping bag zipper and scrambled for my headlamp unsure how light was going to rectify my situation.  The second assault occurred, and this time, I would define it as a definite body slam against the thin fabric over my head.  I swiveled around with my beacon of light flashing uselessly against the white interior of the tent.  Whatever it was that was taking a fancy to my tent was far larger than any mouse I had ever experienced.  Jon had not mentioned that the mice were not only gutsy and plentiful, but mutant, gargantuan and seemingly possessed.  

I turned to the door of the tent preparing myself for battle or at the least a quick escape.  That is when the light of my headlamp pointed straight into the face of a small cat.  I shouted at him, "Go away."  I assumed this feline must be wild, rabid, and starving.  I wanted him out of my space immediately.  He stared at me undeterred, yellow eyes reflecting my own light back at me.  I smacked at the side of the tent and repeated my request for him to leave in a louder more authoritative voice.  He slinked under the vestibule only to reappear on the other side.  I again flexed my strength and voice through the netting and he slipped away, but not without one more bat at the side of my tent.  I quickly dressed and got out of the tent to inspect the scene.  Once I was outside, I saw the cat, striped, and displaying markings very similar to my own lazy cat back in Vermont.  Now with me standing at my full height, the cat took one look and retreated into the edges of our camp's darkness. 

Once everyone else was awake and moving about, I retold my encounter.  Jon commented that he had seen the yellow eyes previously, but did not want to alarm anyone and so had kept the observation to himself.  It was decided that the cat needed a proper name.  All of the camp mice had been named after various villains, and so I decided that our camp cat, despite his unsettling introduction, needed a hero's name . . . and so Frodo became him given name.  Over the course of the next week, we spotted Frodo on a number of occasions.  Since my first encounter, all sightings were fleeting - yellow eyes blinking in the darkness, him scamping across our path, a face peering around the old scrap metal in the camp.  It is amazing how the fear of the unknown can so quickly be erased with a name.  No longer was this feline a beast to be feared, rather he was our camp pet Frodo that we hoped would visit each night.