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Tuesday, January 30, 2024

Scaling a Dome of Broken Glass

View south from top of Obsidian Dome; Glass Creek Dome mid photo, Sierra Nevada on skyline.
After touring the Mono Craters, accompanied by the spirit of pioneering geologist Israel Russell, I drove south on US 395 to see more of eastern California's volcanics. This time I was led by Robert P. Sharp and Allen F. Glazner, authors of Geology Underfoot in Death Valley and Owens Valley (1997, first edition).

I was intent on visiting a rhyolite dome or coulée (lava flow), landforms that had puzzled Russell during his fieldwork in the Mono Basin in 1883. "These outbursts of acidic lava are in strong contrast with the overflows of basic rock with which geologists are most familiar ... [which] are frequently quite liquid at first, flow rapidly, and reach a distance of many miles before congealing sufficiently to check their progress." Not so the Mono coulées. They barely reached beyond the foot of their cones.

Mono Craters, added arrows point to coulées—short thick lava flows with rugged surfaces and steep sides (from USGS 1971).
Russell rightly concluded the lava had been extremely viscous and therefore flowed very slowly. He considered these coulées unusual, perhaps unique. Surely geologists would be eager to study them. "When the valley in which these craters are situated becomes more familiar to tourists and geologists, they can not fail to be widely known as typical illustrations of mountains formed of acidic lavas." And so it came to pass.

Time has proven Russell wrong in thinking the Mono coulées unique; similar flows have been found around the world. But he was spot on about geological interest. Rhyolite volcanoes are relatively uncommon, so their abundance in eastern California makes the area attractive to volcanologists. Especially intriguing is their youth. Most erupted in the last 10,000 years, several in the last thousand. And they may be only sleeping.

Between Mammoth Mountain and Mono Lake "virtually every hill is a young volcano" (Sharp & Glazner 1997; NASA photo 2000).
Rhyolite domes and coulées are not easy to examine, as Russell explained. "The extreme ruggedness of the coulées is due to the fact that they hardened at the surface during the time they were still moving. The crust thus formed became broken and involved in the pasty material beneath in a most complicated manner. ... Even at the present day, after many blocks have fallen and the formation of a talus slope has commenced, the climber finds it extremely difficult to scale these rugged and broken escarpments of glassy fragments."

Flow front, North Coulée, Mono Craters.
However not far from Mono Craters is a dome that can be scaled without difficulty. On the west side of Obsidian Dome a road ascends the rugged broken escarpment to the top. A locked gate limits access to all but foot traffic.

The Obsidian Dome volcano erupted in 1350, just 633.5 years ago (associated tree mortality occurred in late summer of that year). Lava slowly oozed from the vent and flowed outward, forming what looks like a giant cowpie 1–2 km across and 50–100 m thick, its surface rough with jumbled blocks of volcanic rock. Aside from its shape, Obsidian Dome is similar to the Mono Crater coulées that Russell found so striking with their steep sides and rough surfaces. "Obsidian Coulée" is actually more appropriate.
Obsidian Dome, the cowpie coulée. Google Earth 2019.
Looking ± northeast at Obsidian Dome; blue line is gated access road. Gray area is an old pumice quarry, the reason for the road. Google Earth 2019.
Obsidian Dome and its road are featured in the geological vignette "Ominous Ooze" in the first edition of Sharp and Glazner's guide. I like the first edition very much. It provides more detail in descriptions and discussions, for example nine pages are devoted to Obsidian Dome vs. only three in the second edition. I found it especially helpful in appreciating the varied and beautiful rocks on display—all rhyolite and yet so different!
Formidable slope of broken glass, slightly worried field assistant for scale.
But the ascent turned out to be a stroll :)
Chunks of black glass were beautiful to the eye but challenging for the camera's light meter.
"Glass" and "glassy" often appear in descriptions of rhyolite volcanoes. Accustomed as we are to the transparent stuff, this can be confusing. Broadly speaking a glass is a non-crystalline solid that cooled so quickly from a liquid state that crystallization was impossible. A myth persists that glass is actually a super viscous liquid that flows at the scale of centuries (for example in old window panes). This has been discounted. But the transition of glass from liquid to solid remains an unsolved problem in physics.

Whatever the exact nature of glass, the volcanoes that extruded these domes and coulées were well equipped to produce it. The magma was >70% silica; at such a high concentration silica tetrahedra (molecules) bind tightly to each other, making super viscous lava. Not only did it barely flow, it was so viscous that other kinds of atoms couldn't move around and bond with their brethren to form crystals. When crystal-poor lava such as this cools rapidly, for example by being carried to the surface in a volcanic eruption, obsidian and other forms of volcanic glass result.
The tiny silica tetrahedron plays a big role in volcanoes (source).
Obsidian with scattered small crystals in a matrix of glass.
At the base of the coulée and along the road to the top I saw lots of obsidian with bands of pale pumice—also a glass but filled with bubbles. Perhaps it formed from frothy lava during a more explosive phase. These rocks were especially beautiful with their varied combinations of banding, curves, and swirls.

What happened here?!
Amid the shiny black broken glass, and sometimes bonded to it, was dull pinkish orange and gray rock that seemed out of place. It turned out to be one of the more interesting finds of the day—stony rhyolite, which has the same chemical composition as obsidian but is crystalline. Even more intriguing, given enough time obsidian will become stony rhyolite.

Those atoms that initially were stymied in their attempts at crystal formation don't give up! It may take a million years but eventually they find a way through the silica tetrahedra, meet their brethren, form crystals, and convert the non-crystalline obsidian to stony rhyolite.
Stony rhyolite can be as beautiful as obsidian.
But why is there stony rhyolite on Obsidian Dome, which erupted just 633.5 years ago? The explanation may be water. Water vapor can facilitate crystallization by breaking bonds in the silica tetrahedra, making the lava less viscous. Perhaps some of the magma contained enough water vapor to produce stony rhyolite right away (Sharp & Glazner 1997).

The hike wasn't long, but there was so much to see! Finally we reached the top. The landscapes were surreal.
Coarsely vesicular obsidian, part of a squeeze-up (read more here).
Sharp and Glazner end their vignette with the difficult but unavoidable question—why are these volcanoes here? Volcanologists have made some progress in answering it. They've even drilled deep into Obsidian Dome, thanks to the road to the old pumice quarry. But that's the subject of a future post, after our next visit.
The Inyo Dike, suspected source of Obsidian Dome and its neighbors (Reches & Fink 1988).

Sources

Fisher, RV, Heiken, G, Hulen, JB. 1997. Volcanoes: crucibles of change. Princeton U Press.

Reches, Z., and Fink, J.H., 1988, The mechanism of intrusion of the Inyo dike, Long Valley caldera, California: J. Geoph. Res. 93:4321–4334. https://doi.org/10.1029/JB093iB05p04321

Russell, IC. 1889. Quaternary History of Mono Valley, California in USGS 8th annual report (If the USGS PDF is slow to load and read online, try HathiTrust.) Russell's report was printed separately in 1984 by Artemisia Press, Lee Vining, CA (out of print).

Sharp, RP, and Glazner, AF. 1997 (4th printing 2003). Geology Underfoot in Death Valley and Owens Valley. Mountain Press. NOTE: A revised second edition was published in 2022 (Glazner, Sylvester, & Sharp). Based on the areas I've visited, it seems more science light. But of course maps and illustrations are far better. Perhaps buy both.

Vogel, TA, et al. 1989. Petrology and emplacement dynamics of intrusive and extrusive rhyolites of Obsidian Dome, Inyo craters volcanic chain, eastern California: J. Geoph. Res. 94:17,937–17,956. PDF (Open Access)

Friday, January 12, 2024

Visiting the Mono Craters with Israel Russell

Do you see wreaths of vapor? Or the lurid light of molten lava? (D. Mayer photo)
Last September I toured the Mono Basin in the company of the great pioneering geologist Israel Russell, author of Quaternary history of Mono Valley, California. He wasn't there in person of course, having left this world more than a century ago. But I had read his report. Russell was an able writer and contagiously enthusiastic about his subject, so his spirit was very much with me.

The Mono Basin lies in far eastern California between the east slope of the Sierra Nevada and the California–Nevada state line. Israel Russell first visited in 1881, in the employ of the US Geological Survey. His stay was brief, being incidental to reconnaissance of Lake Lahontan, the great Ice Age lake. Even so, he became sufficiently acquainted with "the more prominent features of Quaternary history" to know he had to return.

Pleistocene–early Holocene lakes of the Great Basin (Russell 1889). Red box marks glacial Lake Mono. It was later renamed Lake Russell (1).
In the fall of 1882, after finishing his Lake Lahontan project, Russell traveled to the Mono Basin for further study. But he was too late; "the storms of winter compelled a postponement of the undertaking." The following summer he returned with topographer Willard Johnson, who completed a survey of the Basin, and JB Bernadou who made field sketches and assisted in various ways. Quaternary history of Mono Valley was published seven years later, in the 8th annual report of the USGS (2).

In his report Russell invites the reader to travel with him "in fancy" from the mining town of Bodie down into the Basin, along the shores of "intensely alkaline" Mono Lake, and then up to the crest of the Sierra Nevada and the summit of Mt. Dana. I joined him just south of Mono Lake, at the north end of the Mono Craters.

"between the observer [in the Basin] and the steep face of the Sierra there is a range of volcanic cones that attract the eye ... These are the Mono Craters. So perfect are their shapes and so fresh is their appearance that the eye lingers about their summits in half expectation of seeing wreaths of vapor or the lurid light of molten lava ascending from their throats." (All quoted text is from Russell 1889 unless otherwise cited.)

Mono Craters, looking south. Panum volcano at north end, Sierra Nevada in distance. USGS 1971.
Russell knew the Craters were volcanic, but some of their features were strange. "The Mono Craters are composed entirely of ejected matter. Lapilli (a general name for small rock fragments thrown out by volcanoes) form the most conspicuous portion of the cones. There are also several coulées of volcanic rock which flowed out in a molten condition and consolidated on cooling." It was the coulées that puzzled him (3).

Obsidian Coulée rises steeply behind Russell's mule—"the most practicable method of carrying forward work".
The Mono coulées were clearly lava flows, but they were very short, quite thick, and made of rhyolite. "These outbursts of acidic lava are in strong contrast with the overflows of basic rock with which geologists are most familiar ... [which] are frequently quite liquid at first, flow rapidly, and reach a distance of many miles before congealing sufficiently to check their progress."

In fact these coulées didn't flow very far at all, rarely beyond the foot of their cones. And they were 200–300 feet thick, with steep sides and fronts. Russell rightly concluded that the lava had been quite viscous.

"One of the most striking features illustrated by the lava streams of the Mono Craters is that the molten rock came forth in a viscid or semi-fluid condition and cooled rapidly. ... The extruded lava was apparently sufficiently heated to be pasty or semi-fluid, but the temperature was not raised high enough to produce what is usually termed fluidity and thus permit rapid flow."

The Mono Craters also include plugs and domes made of rhyolite. Russell considered them "incipient coulées which were congealed before a definite flow in any direction had been established." He was right about this too.

Looking east at steep fronts of several Mono coulées (Russell 1889).
Same coulées from Nature Trail stop on US 395. High point on left is Crater Mountain, a rhyolite dome.
North Coulée from south shore of Mono Lake; left end was the front of the flow.
North Coulee at a worthy geostop on CA 120. "Even at the present day, after many blocks have fallen and the formation of a talus slope has commenced, the climber finds it extremely difficult to scale these rugged and broken escarpments of glassy fragments."
Today we're taught that magma viscosity is a major factor in its behavior and the resulting landforms. We also learn that viscosity varies with silica content (e.g., Fisher et al. 1997). For example magma containing < 55% silica flows easily, making the familiar "basic" lava flows Russell mentioned. At the other end of the spectrum, magma with > 70% silica flows with great difficulty if at all, and is too viscous even for gases to escape. Instead pressure builds until the magma explodes. Hot incandescent ash races across the landscape searing everything in its path before finally stopping and cooling to form massive beds of welded rhyolite.

As Russell noted, the Mono coulées are rhyolite, high in silica. So why did silici magma ooze out instead of exploding, as we're told it does? Russell didn't have to struggle with this question because so little was known about volcanoes then. It was something for future geologists to puzzle over, and Russell was optimistic they would.

"The range is unlike any other known to the writer, and, so far as can be judged from the reports of explorers, is the only one of its kind in the United States. When the valley in which these craters are situated becomes more familiar to tourists and geologists, they can not fail to be widely known as typical illustrations of mountains formed of acidic lavas".

Mono domes and coulées "formed of acidic lavas" (Marcaida et al. 2019),
If Russell's spirit indeed visits the Mono Basin, it must be a happy one. From the time Quaternary history of Mono Valley was published, "Geologists have been gripped by Mono dome fever ... the chain well deserves the attention succeeding generations of geologists have lavished on it." (Sharp & Glazner 1997).

Those feverish geologists have shown unequivocally that the Mono volcanoes are young. The first may have erupted as early as 90,000 years ago, but most are less than 10,000 years old. In that short time at least 28 rhyolite domes and coulées have emerged (Marcaida et al. 2019). Those in the middle of the chain are oldest. The youngest (and my favorite) is Panum at the north end, a mere babe just 700 years old.

But the question remains: Why did silica-rich magma ooze out of the Mono Craters instead of exploding?  A common suggestion is that Mono volcanoes erupted in two stages. In the first, small fragments (lapilli) are ejected and deposited to form a crater-like cone. Some magma remains in the chamber, specifically magma depleted of explosive gases and still hot enough to flow. In the second stage, "a mass of thick, pasty [rhyolitic] glass oozes up within the crater to form a dome ... The dome may grow so large that it fills its crater and occasionally breaches the ring of explosion debris to flow away as a stream of molten glass, a coulée." (Sharp and Glazner 1997). Wouldn't that be great to see!

Tiny dome inside Panum crater, perhaps an "incipient coulee". Is it still flowing?
As volcano guidebook authors must, Russell addressed the unavoidable question: Are the Mono volcanoes extinct or only sleeping? 

He explained that some are quite young, having erupted after geologically-recent events. "Their last eruption took place after the glaciers had retreated up the cañons of the Sierra. They also are, in part, more recent than the ancient beaches to be seen about the border of the valley, which record former high water stages of [glacial] Lake Mono."

The Mono Craters may have erupted recently geologically-speaking, but for most of us, ephemeral creatures that we are, they're relics of the past. Russell ended his report by tackling this misconception. 

"The [Pleistocene–early Holocene], as compared with the present, appears to have been a time of greatly expanded water surface, increased glacial action, and more energetic volcanic activity. In making such a statement, however, it is evident that we are comparing the events of a day with a whole volume of history. Could we look into the future with as much accuracy as we are able to review the past, it would be evident that changes are now in progress that in time will equal the apparent revolutions [of the past]." (emphasis mine)
Israel Russell (source). "his physique gave to the eye little suggestion of that capacity for sustained effort and endurance without which his more strenuous exploration would have been impossible." (Gilbert 1906)

Notes

(1) There also is a Glacial Lake Russell in Washington, also named for Israel Russell.

(2) Many readers have been captivated by Russell's writing. Early residents of the Mono Basin liked it so much that they paid for a separate printing of his report, to use to attract tourists (Gaines 1984). It was reprinted in 1984 by Artemisia Press, but again sold out. I found a used copy online.

(3) "Coulée" is a Canadian French word derived from the French "couler"— to flow. Beyond that, its meaning varies widely. Coulées can be lava flows, like those of the Mono Basin. In eastern South Dakota coulées are draws, usually narrow with steep sides, where water flows or has flowed. In Washington (state) coulées are huge channels scoured into basalt bedrock by Ice Age floods.

Sources

Fisher, RV, Heiken, G, Hulen, JB. 1997. Volcanoes: crucibles of change. Princeton U Press.

Gaines, D. 1984. Mono Lake's Poet-Geologist. Preface in 1984 reprint of Russell's 1889 report (see below).

Gilbert, GK. 1906. Israel Cook Russell. J. of Geology 14:663-667.

Marcaida, M., et al. 2019. Constraining the early eruptive history of the Mono Craters rhyolites ... Geochemistry, Geophysics, Geosystems, 20, 1539–1556. https://doi.org/10.1029/2018GC008052

Russell, IC. 1889. Quaternary history of Mono Valley, California in USGS 8th annual report (If the USGS PDF is slow to load and read online, try HathiTrust.) Russell's report was printed separately in 1984 by Artemisia Press, Lee Vining, CA (now out of print).

Sharp, RP, and Glazner, AF. 1997 (4th printing 2003). Geology Underfoot in Death Valley and Owens Valley. Mountain Press.
A revised second edition of this guide was published in 2022 (Glazner, Sylvester, & Sharp). Based on the areas I've visited, it seems more science light and the tours more cursory. But of course maps and illustrations are far better. Perhaps buy both.


Monday, January 8, 2024

Tree-Following in South Dakota—Black Hills Spruce

Black Hills Spruce in the Cathedral Spires high in the Black Hills (State of South Dakota photo).
It's time for a January tree-following report but I've given no thought whatsoever to a tree for 2024. However I'm thinking a lot about trees for an online guide to South Dakota plants, hosted by the Rocky Mountain Herbarium at the University of Wyoming (a guide to Wyoming plants is also underway). Being keen to learn more about my arborescent friends, I decided to feature a different tree each month. Like our online guide, the posts will be photo-rich!

I'm starting with the Black Hills Spruce—South Dakota's State Tree. This spruce and the Ponderosa Pine are what make the Black Hills black.
The Black Hills stand out against the surrounding prairie thanks to coniferous forests. Google Earth; no date.
The scientific name for Black Hills Spruce is Picea glauca. Some readers, for example in Wisconsin and Minnesota, are now thinking "Whaaatt??!" Yes, you're right. P. glauca grows in your states as well as across Canada and beyond. Outside the Black Hills it's called White Spruce.
Native distribution of P. glauca. The disjunct green spot in western South Dakota is the Black Hills. USDA Plants Database; TreeLibrary photo (arrow added).
There was a time when Black Hills Spruce was recognized as P. glauca var. densata for its tendency toward denseness—denser stands, denser darker needles, and more compact growth form compared with White Spruce elsewhere. But these differences are subtle and not consistent. So the botanical variety was abandoned in the early 1970s. However 'Densata' remains a popular cultivar.
P. glauca 'Densata'. Black Hills Spruce is considered a superior ornamental tree. Source.
Are you wondering why a taxonomically-controversial tree native only in the far western part of South Dakota is the state tree? Well ... South Dakotans have wondered too. In fact the Black Hills Spruce was hardly a shoo-in for State Tree, for the reasons mentioned above. There was a lot of support for the cottonwood, which grows widely across the state. Others favored junipers, more often called cedars. A committee looked into both but decided to go with the Black Hills Spruce. It was designated State Tree in March of 1947. More here.

Of course I will include the State Tree story on the Spruce's webpage, but mainly we want to help users with identification. In this case, id is easy. There are only six coniferous tree species in South Dakota. Of these Picea glauca is the only one that has solitary needles. Our other coniferous trees with needles—the pines—have them in bundles of 2–5. Common Juniper, Juniperus communis var. depressa, has solitary needles but is clearly a shrub not a tree. (Outside North America Common Junipers are often trees, as I learned from Erika in Sweden.)

For a detailed "description" of White Spruce, see the photographs below. We are so fortunate to have many great photos available for educational and non-commercial use. I don't miss the "good old days" of hefty technical manuals, nor trying to describe plants and their parts with words only.

Unless noted otherwise, photos below are from the wonderful Minnesota Wildflowers Information web site (includes all Minnesota plants now, not just wildflowers). It's a major source of information and photos for our project.
Spruce needles are solitary with no sheath at the base. Needles of P. glauca are about 2 cm long and often closely spiraled on the branch. Brown structures are buds—the beginnings of young shoots.
In spruce, pollen and seeds are produced in different cones on the same tree. Male cones are smaller. These are P. glauca pollen cones in spring. TreeLibrary, Susan J. Meades.
Mature P. glauca female cones are reddish- or purplish-brown and can be as long as 7 cm.
When immature, female cones are a beautiful purple!
Winged seeds, ready to fly.
P. glauca bark is thin, gray, and scaly.
A cozy cabin among Black Hills Spruce. Rubber stamp art by Jan Conn.

This is my January 2024 contribution to the monthly gathering of tree followers kindly hosted by The Squirrelbasket. Consider joining us!