Well, you know you’re well into your field season when the days start to pass in a blur, and you ask people things like “is it still February?”
Nick and I have had a great time exploring the plains of Patagonia. We share an office back at SFU, and have spent quite a bit of time together both in the field and doing lab work, so I tend to think of him as my partner in crime. Or at least, my partner in paleomagnetism. I worry, though, that his hypochondriacal delusions may cause this partnership to be cut short. Since arriving here, he’s mentioned to me that he thinks he has celiac disease, a tape worm, a dislocated knee cap, chronic fatigue syndrome, Parkinsons disease, meningitis, the common cold, and more. And, he's not always kidding. As far as I can tell, he’s the picture of health, but you never know…maybe he has it all. As long as it doesn’t affect my work!
The proto-Dr. Roberts, peeing on one of my sections.
The past week or so has been highly productive, and full of a great variety of geology. Nick and I spent a few days wandering the gravel roads along the coast south of Rio Gallegos, searching for access to some cliffs that looked easy to get to on Google Earth. From the comfort of my laptop, nice wide gravel roads provide a perfect transect through outwash gravels, into the moraines of the oldest glacial deposits (those of the Great Patagonian Glaciation) and straight down South into the next oldest deposits known as the Cabo Virgenes drift. In actuality, the roads do exist, and in fantastic condition. However, they are riddled with signs that read “danger” and “restricted access,” which can only be ignored for so long until you reach a big metal gate with a fat ol’ lock on it. This is oil and ranching country, and they do not operate under a “come one, come all” mentality. Some days, we would drive for hours, passing through unlocked gates and reaching beautiful road cuts and sea cliff exposures of glacial sediments. Other days, we would drive and drive, only to get turned around by a locked gate and a double fence. I thought that it was ridiculous that the big estancias are so strict about access to their land…I mean, who cares if someone wanders around and sees how many sheep you have? But, apparently the presence of trucks startles sheep, and can cause young to be separated from their mothers while scrambling to escape big scary vehicles stirring up giant dust clouds as they drive across the desert. Another problem is sheep poaching…in such a remote area, without gates, people can easily shoot themselves as much meat as they desire. One estancia that we visited gave us careful driving instructions to reach the outcrop we wanted to view, warning us which roads had been booby trapped with boards with nails in order to bring down poachers. Now, I am more respectful of gates and private property signs.
Access denied!
This weekend, Nick and I visited the area around Punta Delgada, Chile, along the coast of the Strait of Magellan. We were joined by Hugo and Hebe Corbella, two Argentinians from Buenos Aires who have worked extensively in southern Patagonia. Both are in their 70s, and incredibly sharp in both body and mind. Hugo is a volcanologist who has done a lot of work in the Pali Aike volcanic field, and was an incredible help for me. I told him that I wanted to see exposures of different glacial deposits, and he knew exactly which roads had the freshest cuts and exposures. More and more, I realize how lucky I am to have the help of local geologists. There seems to be a code of sorts, where geologists help one another out whenever they can, as everyone has experienced the difficulty of working in a country where they don’t know the language or the customs as well as they should. This attitude also builds professional relationships, a sharing of knowledge and an eventual sharing of names on published research. Some days we joined Hugo and Hebe in the field, and other days we took off on our own to the coast of the Strait, visiting cliff exposures along the Strait. We had fantastic weather, with clear-ish skies and light winds. The geology was breathtaking…nearly endless cliff exposures of sediment. Each day I left feeling like I only saw the tip of the iceberg.
I think I'll see if I can rent this place when it comes time to write my dissertation...
One of the most important lessons I have learned from my Argentinian friends is the importance of hot beverages while doing field work. As much as I have made fun of it, I have started to consider my afternoon Nescafe to be indispensable. We bring a thermos of hot water with us, tap a few teaspoons of dark brown crystals into our mugs, and instantly have something that resembles a proper cup of hot coffee right there on the beach. High class! It’s even better when Nick shares his little packets of Starbucks Via…that stuff is always decent, but after a few days of Nescafe, it tastes like the finest coffee in the world.
Not a bad spot to have some Nescafe!
Nick, me, and our hard-fought luminescence sample.
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