Batholith. I love that word. It is a portmanteau of “depth” (bathos) and “rock” (lithos), literally meaning “deep rock,” but sounds like you’re trying to say “basilisk” after having burned your tongue on hot coffee.

On Sunday, Racy of the Racy Mind, VirgoTex (whom you all know by now as she who puts the Town in Back Of Town) and I hiked the Enchanted Rock granite batholith in the Llano Uplift area of central Texas. It took us approximately 2.5 hours to hike up and down a deceptively easy 425 feet; as Virgo said, “You think you’re getting close to the top, and then there’s more top after that.” We could have accomplished it faster, I suppose, but the point of a hike is hiking and not a race to the top and back.

As I get older, I am more a consummate scientist (“Consummate Vs!”) and less a geologist, and increasingly piece together the immediate and more nuanced relationships between the earth and the things that live in and on it. When I was a geology undergraduate, my approach was “Cool rock! FIND ALL THE SAMPLES. KNOW ALL THE THINGS.” This attitude has now morphed into “Cool rock! What does it tell me about the larger geologic history of this place? Also, notice how it has eroded and broken down to its constituent minerals and how some minerals form one type of soil on which X species of plants grow, and house these specific animals and birds, while others weather or are transported elsewhere to form different deposits and soils.”

Mineral type, grain size, chemical content, distance from source, chemical breakdown, clay content, soil formation, that the cacti and peaches love a certain type of acidic soil and the peach pie served at the cute little cafe in Llano. It’s a contained system, this earth, and I don’t bring up this observation from a standpoint of hippy-kumbaya-interconnectedness or simply being older, but one of practicality: Being open to different inputs and practicing the art of making the right connections among them makes you a better-equipped human, much less a scientist. Even as a scientist, detective work yields better results if you step back and focus your eyes beyond your area of specialty. This is why I still want to be a crime scene forensic geologist when I grow up [insert mental image of me whipping off my sunglasses all Caruso-styleeee].

Back to Enchanted Rock. If it’s one of twelve batholiths and surrounding metamorphics that constitute the Llano Uplift, why is it up here at the earth’s surface? In fact, why is it higher than surrounding rocks for miles and miles? Rob Reed’s Llano Uplift site has very detailed descriptions of the (debate surrounding the) mechanics and timing of these preCambrian granites and schists exposed in the middle of a much younger Texas geology. My Cliff’s Notes version goes like this:

1) Uplift by Metamorphism, Deformation and Intrusion: Mesoproterozoic (~1.5 billion years ago) sedimentary rocks metamorphosed into schists and intruded by granites, including Enchanted Rock and surrounding granite batholiths, during the Grenville orogeny around 1.1 billion years ago. This resulted in the formation of very thick continental crust in this area. So, the “Uplift” has always been relatively high with respect to its surroundings. (Can you say “positive gravity anomalies,” kids?)

Vein (with Virgo's finger for scale)

2) Continued Uplift by Tectonics and Erosion: Deposition of sands and limestones occurred through much of the Paleozoic (540-300 million years ago). Erosion of the Uplift’s rocks probably continued in this time. The late-Paleozoic Ouachita orogeny seems to have contributed to another re-Uplift and exposure of the preCambrian rocks. The deposition-erosion cycle chugged along through the Miocene (15 million years ago) movement along the Balcones Fault Zone, which pushed the Uplift’s rocks higher than the rocks to the southeast of the fault zone.

3) Even More Uplift and Weathering/Erosion: All through this time, from around 1 billion years ago to now, the rocks have experienced varying degrees of uplift and weathering/erosion. Uplift or not, two phenomena you can count on beyond death and taxes are weathering and erosion. (Weathering is the in-place breakdown of a rock by physical and chemical means and erosion is the movement of weathered material from its source.)

The view from Enchanted Rock

So, from when they were first exposed to the present time, the granites and metamorphic rocks of the Uplift have moved upward in response to the forces of buoyancy, tectonics and burial. And the moment you move rock relatively up, *BAM!* wind and water begin to eat into it. When we were on the top of Enchanted Rock on Sunday, it was very windy and heavy rains had come through the night before – we saw chemical weathering, gravel formation and sediment transport before our very eyes. Granites display an additional weathering feature in that they exfoliate (yes, think skin exfoliation) on the removal of overburden or pressure, which is why you see sheets/sheaths of granite that look like they’re ready to slide off the surface any minute now.

Exfoliation

Wait a moment here. Take the geological action that we saw in 2.5 hours and begin to envision a billion years of it. Think of how much sediment this group of rocks has generated and how far it must have traveled and been buried by now to possibly be re-intruded by igneous rocks and be metamorphosed elsewhere some day. Tell me it doesn’t make you trip backwards in awe of space and time and this ball of rock that makes all of this possible. I cannot think of doing anything else in life besides geology. At a crime scene. With cool sunglasses to take off.

***

If you would like to visit Enchanted Rock and the surrounding Texas Hill Country, here is a handy-dandy set of geology links to peruse before you head out.

1. The aforementioned Llano Uplift site (which, hilariously, describes everything we’ve covered above as “an island of rock excitement adrift in a sea of Cretaceous limestones whose only redeeming value is the oil in them.” Not true. Hill Country = pretty + aquifer.)
2. An indispensable Fredericksburg to Enchanted Rock Road log which you Must Have in the car. The log narrates the geology along Highway 965 between the town of Fredericksburg and Enchanted Rock Park and beyond to the town of Llano. If for nothing else, follow along so you know when to look for the caliche pit and the “gorgeous, panoramic view of Enchanted Rock and the surrounding countryside laid out from skyline to skyline.”
3. My Geology of the Llano Uplift and Texas Hill Country pre-read guide, which consists mainly of maps, photos and overviews to get you quickly oriented to central and southeastern Texas geology. Each page has links to the source(s) for even further reading. Nice thing about this Google doc is that it is a very specific and breathing document that can be crowd-edited if I open up permissions.
4. The Enchanted Rock State Natural Area topographic and trail map. Take water, wear boots, look out for rattlesnakes and *sadface* don’t beat on the rocks to take samples home.
5. My Enchanted Rock Flickr photo set containing the photos you see here and more. All of my photographs are available under a CreativeCommons BY-NC-SA 3.0 license, so feel free to use them for teaching and/or open research purposes.

Little Rock (L) and Enchanted Rock

For posterity and your convenience, I’ve storified the recent discussion a bunch of us geoscientists on Twitter had that started with conference “booth babes” and inevitably led to the advances of and roadblocks for female (geo)scientists. Use at will.

(Oh, has anyone figured out how to edit a Storify? Can you?)

In the latest American Association of Petroleum Geologists Explorer, geology professor Sharon Mosher offers some great insight into the future of our profession at a time when fewer students are graduating with geology degrees* while the industry need for geoscientists is at an all-time high.

“There’s still a tendency to emphasize field work and travel, but many students now don’t find this attractive,” Mosher noted. “They want families and a stable home life and don’t want to travel.

“Additionally, most first generation college students equate field work to manual labor and aren’t interested,” she noted, “plus they may be reluctant to leave their community.”

The folly of using field work as a lure for students today becomes even more apparent when considering the bulk of the professional jobs they ultimately will take on, for the most part, require staying indoors in front of a computer.

On reading this article, I posed the following questions to the geoscience community on Twitter.

1. How to attract students to [geoscience studies] in an era when education isn’t valued as an end in itself and has become a conveyor belt business?

2. Then again, if [current] end goal of higher ed is just to get a job, the geoscience industry is hiring! So, where are the applicants? What’s the hurdle?

To which I got several telling responses, but two that really stood out. The first was from Erik of Eruptions Blog, a geoscience professor himself:

“I think we’re stuck in a loop where many faculty don’t even think to recommend industry jobs to students.”

and the other was a reply to both Erik and me from Infrasound Huntress:

“Very true! My adviser is still in his ‘first job.’”

Are you hearing this? Professors and full-time researchers are needed now more than ever, but the inflexibility and lack of vision, versatility and diversity of their current incarnation may be their own undoing. Fewer geoscientists are being made for academia and industry.

On cue, this Inside Higher Ed article on chemistry academics is making the science blog rounds today: Why Women Leave Academia. As the author suggests, feel free to apply the learnings to other science departments.

… By the third year, the proportion of men planning careers in chemistry research had dropped from 61% to 59%. But for the women, the number had plummeted from 72% in the first year to 37% as they finish their studies.

If we tease apart those who want to work as researchers in industry from those who want to work as researchers in academia, the third year numbers are alarming: 12% of the women and 21% of the men see academia as their preferred choice.

… Universities will not survive as research institutions unless university leadership realizes that the working conditions they offer dramatically reduce the size of the pool from which they recruit.

Two articles on different aspects of the same crisis published in the same week: While the research it generates is relevant and critical, academia has created a self-promoting infrastructure and surrounding bubble, which would be fine if it didn’t a) make it impossible for scientists to make more of their own and b) ignore economic needs and life realities in the process.

If you don’t believe me, have an honest chat with some young and female professors. They love science and, for this, they try so hard to be part of the club and play its game, but they will tell you that the pull of a balance between work and life, better pay and newer processes and technologies is very compelling.

* The University of Wisconsin Department of Geoscience seems to buck the low enrollment trend, with twice as many declared Geology majors this year than in the past. When asked what gives, one undergrad offered, “We’re probably seeing that there are great careers ahead for us.” Hmmm. I’m in the process of designing a survey for these undergraduate majors centered on what brought them to geology. I’d also like to see how many of them actually graduate with geology degrees.

In honor of this day, I give you two simple and great online tutorials on geophysical principles and refraction seismology. There will be a quiz.

I was mailed this by an oil industry colleague with whom I share many views on how energy is made and its future. spOILed is yet another documentary/film making the rounds following the rise of domestic onshore shale gas drilling, especially in the northeast United States shale trends. Its director, Mark Mathis, outlines his motives for making the film with an attempt at transparency on who funded it and why. I highlight the last paragraph of this statement because it is a philosophy absolutely critical to America’s future energy supplies and one that defies where you stand on this issue politically. However, I agree with Mathis only if energy companies and political stakeholders are serious about a transition. In other words, it’s easy to say this to justify the continuation of drilling for hydrocarbons while there are little to no real and systematic efforts being made in renewables research and development.

… The first time I was asked, “Is ‘Big Oil’ funding this film?” I had to laugh. We knew that would be the assumption when we started raising money. It’s a given that every film made about oil MUST slam those greedy, evil companies that feed our “addiction”.

The truth is that companies known as “Big Oil” wouldn’t come near a film like spOILed for fear of the repercussions they fear would come from the elite press corps and politicians. Truth is a dangerous thing. When people are hurting from high fuel costs there must be a villain, and oil companies are such an easy target.

While spOILed does explain some practical realities of the oil business and examines charges of “price gouging” and “record profits” the film isn’t about oil companies. It’s about us—the people who are suffering and who are going to suffer a lot more as the result of being deceived about this critically important commodity affecting every aspect of our lives.

Frustration is what drove me to make spOILed. I began learning about oil/gas and energy in general after I was tapped by a small oil and gas organization to help them with their media needs in 2002. What I learned blew me away. After years of study and analysis I became alarmed at the deception taking place in the US and around the world. Much of the deception was/is intentional and systematic. Varied groups, all pursing their own individual interests, have misled us. The end result is that most people are completely unaware of the biggest problem ever faced by humanity—a problem that will become obvious to all sometime soon. Instead of giving people the truth and paving the way toward real solutions, politicians have actually made the problem worse.

With few people willing to take a realistic, sobering look at our oil use, I knew I had to accept this mission. The idea of spOILed was born. Now I needed some money. I knew no major oil company would touch this project, but just to be sure I asked a few executives from “Big Oil” if they would consider an investment of this kind. They suppressed their laughter (mostly) and politely declined. I ultimately found the investment I needed from a small group of independent investors. Yes, some of them have oil/gas interests. However, I told these investors they would have no input in the content of the film. Some of the content they would like, some they might not (such as the considerable amount of time devoted to the BP Gulf Oil Spill of 2010 and the Santa Barbara Spill of 1969, and even the issue of Peak Oil).

I know there are those who will attack spOILed because the investment used to make the film did not come from some mythical, disinterested entity. Here’s a shocker—no other documentary filmmaker has managed to find such a benevolent, neutral investor. We welcome criticism from others, so long as they have the integrity to attack our data and analysis, which we believe is sound and true.

One of the most fascinating aspects of the making of spOILed is that I have the same end goal as biggest green energy advocate out there. We must transition AWAY FROM OIL as such a dominant fuel for transportation. The difference between us is that I am facing the REALITY that this transition will take many decades to achieve and while we’re on the way we need a LOT more oil to keep the modern world functioning.

We don’t trust no stinking Pennsylvania groundhogs! Wisconsin’s own Jimmy proclaims Early Spring. I suspect Jimmy knows a thing or two about climate science.

Cari The Geologist And Certified U2 Freak is sure to love this post.

Volcanoclast hosts this month’s Accretionary Wedge on countertop geology.

Have you seen a great countertop out there?  Sure, everyone says it’s “granite”, but you know better.  Take a picture, post it on your own blog or send it to me and I’ll post it for you.  Do you think you know what it is or how it was formed?

I was all set to write about the rapakivi granite (that’s “Baltic brown” to you realtors out there, who refer to everything as granite or marble) in my kitchen when, hark, from the sky down came a reminder of a really cool countertop of yesteryear. Black marble with deformed fossils. Or more precisely, a lightly-toasted, black, fossiliferous, Irish limestone in the shape of a large octagon that belongs to U2.

Some science channel or the other provides constant background noise in my house (with signal being occasional exclamations such as “That in NO WAY could have caused the K-T extinction,” “When will these TV earthquake scientists balls up and start talking about strain instead of stress?”, “That 3D dinosaur has more feathers than our last Thanksgiving turkey” and “Really, did that American geologist just say MOGMA?!” There’s also the gratuitous repetition of “bass-solt” after a Britisher says the word “basalt.” Nope, never really left fifth grade.) For the last few days, a Science channel commercial on heavy rotation has been the trailer for U2′s new documentary From The Sky Down.

The U2 fans are going to be on me like a pack of rabid … U2 fans for this, but one can only take so much Bono cooing about the transition from playing notes to finding The Great Pumpkin or something while creating Achtung Baby. It’s like those who say they found god in geology or New Orleans; a lot of times life simply boils down to being really good at something and enjoying doing it. For the good times and cash money.

The roof over the bar (photo by bobsrocket on Flickr CC-BY-NC-SA)

Anyway, Accretionary Wedge. Countertops. U2 commercial. Of course! The Kilkenny marble countertop of Dublin’s Octagon Bar in the Clarence Hotel owned by Bono and The Edge. I’ve been in there twice, but it wasn’t until the second time, when the place was a lot less crowded, that I nodded off looked down, noticed the fossils, especially the sheared brachiopod (see above – bottom right), and realized that I was looking at the beginning stages of a marble with preserved fossil fragments. The bartender is usually asked when Bono’s coming in or if she’s waited on The Edge so was really surprised when she caught me scrutinizing the bar and asking her if she knew its source. That it’s Irish is all she knew which sealed it – Lower Carboniferous “marble” from County Kilkenny in the southeast of Ireland. Not to be confused with a Kilkenny stout, which I am pretty sure can be had at the Octagon Bar while listening to The Joshua Tree, which in my opinion was the best U2 album ever.

Is there anything you cannot do, Ireland?

Further reading: Kilkenny Geology

So not making this stuff up. I was at my desk this morning basking in the warm glow of the giant dual screen setup seriously scrutinizing seismic data when the iPhone spontaneously started to play Al Johnson’s “Carnival Time.” Not only is the girl growing scarily self-aware, she has good timing and great taste in music. And yet, it’s 2012. Await the iApocalypse. Happy Carnival, y’all! It may be our last!

Ropy lava in cross section view. With scale, because that’s how I (rock and) roll.

“I burned the candle at both ends and it often gave a lovely light.”

To mark the passing of Christopher Hitchens, today’s rock is the Hadean Acasta gneiss on display in the Smithsonian Museum. Give hell hell, Hitch!