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.