Coastal adventures

Well, things are finally coming together. On Saturday night, Andrew and I camped out at the lighthouse at Cabo Virgenes, which offers guidance to ships about to take the Strait of Magellan to the Pacific Ocean. Heading north from the straight, there is a roughly 60 km long continuous stretch of 50 – 20 m high cliffs that are entirely composed of glacial sediment. This is quite possibly one of the main shining jewels of my dissertation. Previous researchers have mapped the limits of multiple glaciations on the surface, using topographic maps and photos taken by planes and satellites to distinguish landforms (like moraines) that suggest the oldest glaciers extended to the ocean, and younger ones maybe not so far. However, here at the coast, the cliffs offer a slice into the earth, exposing the layers of sediment lain down through time. I hope to sort out which layer belongs to which glaciation, and maybe even say something about where along the glacier the sediment was being deposited. Was it at the edge? Was it at the base? Were there lakes? Landslides off the glacier face? I’ll let you know in a few years!

Me, walking along the coast (photo credit to Andrew LaCroix). These cliffs go on for 50 kilometres (that's 31 miles for you Americans :) Totally exciting.

Our hike went well. We were very lucky to have a nearly cloudless sky, warm temperatures, and very little wind. We hiked quickly, enjoying some exercise of both the physical and mental variety. I made a lot of exciting observations that made it difficult to turn around at our set return time. It’s always easy to say “well, we’ll just go around this next corner!” Luckily, the threat of rising tides is quite effective in influencing such decisions.

Andrew, earning his keep.

I have exciting news. My supervisor, John, and my committee member, Rene, are now back in Rio Gallegos from their field work in the Andes, along with our Argentine colleagues Hugo and Bettina. Hugo has some contacts here in town, and has managed to secure the rental of two ATVs, a trailer for them, and the use of a hut by the lighthouse at Cabo Virgenes that is owned by the local university. Tomorrow we will check out of our hotel and drive back to the coast, where we will spend Thursday and Friday ripping up the coast on four wheels! That 60 km stretch of cliffs doesn’t stand a chance. I will report back after our adventure, hopefully with lots of photos and stories of good weather and even better science.

Until then, amigos!

Moonrise over the Cierra de los Frailes volcanoes, seen driving back to Rio Gallegos after our trek.

Plans

John Lennon said, “life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” If I didn’t know better, I’d be tempted to think he came up with that while trying to conduct a season of geologic field work.

I don’t want to imply that all of my surprises have been negative. All of my flights south went very smoothly. We successfully imported Rene’s rock drill at the very last minute, just when we thought it was going to get sent back to Canada. Our hotel room is on the top floor of our hotel, has a nice little bonus kitchenette, and (cue sound of angels singing) full bars of pretty strong wifi in the room. That’s new! I’ve been able to Skype phone Grandma and video chat Dave whenever I feel like it, while simultaneously downloading papers and seeding my favorite TV shows. I found some fresh road cut exposures of glacial sediment on roads that I thought would just have the same stuff I saw last year. These are good things that I did not plan for.

Might not look like much, but it's a road cut exposure that I haven't seen before! Note the little station wagon.

However, I have also gotten a few sharp smacks in the face from the gods of planning, or whoever might control whether or not what you think is going to happen happens. For example, although I thought I was getting a minivan, I ended up with a pretty bare-bones Chevy station wagon from the car rental company in Rio Gallegos. While some of the problems can be shrugged off (what, no cup holders? Who doesn’t love a lap full of coffee cups?), others are just plain disruptive to my carefully laid out plans. Basically, the clearance of this vehicle may be lower than that of a baby who just reached the crawling stage. Gravel roads pitted with pot holes that took me 2.5 hours to drive in a pickup truck last year now take Andrew 4 hours to crawl down (while miraculously maintaining a sunny disposition despite my side-seat driving). Rutted, sandy roads that were passable last year are now a pipe dream. I am finding that I cannot access places that I thought I would be able to, or that due to longer transit times, I do not have as much time to do my work as planned. On top of that, roads that this brave little Chevy might be able to wander down, that seem to go to new and exciting locations for geologizing are gated off, with large warning signs to not trespass. I have to admit, it can be a challenge to gracefully accept that my day is not going to be what I planned it to be. Discussions with Andrew, emails with friends, and phone calls to Dave have helped me feel better about the situation. A part of doing field work in remote areas is learning how to execute your plans, and learning to bend them to the weather and other hurdles thrown your way. Sometimes it’s necessary to reassess and try a different angle. Sometimes your field goals do not pan out, and it’s important to know that does not equal failure, as long as you tried.

Important lesson: if there is a lock, you can always hop the fence!

To end on a positive note, I should share that the penguins at the mouth of the Strait of Magellan seem to be strong and happy this year. Their babies are all grown up, and many of them seem to have left the colony earlier than they did in 2012. The choiques, a small ostrich-type bird, also seem to have larger and healthier babies than last year. This February seems to be warmer and less windy than the last, and everyone from the animals to the people seem happier here at the tip of South America. This Saturday night, Andrew and I will camp at Cabo Virgenes and make a day hike on Sunday up the coast to try and see some new exposures. Cross your fingers that we are not caught by the 9 metre tide!

Walking like penguins at Cabo Virgenes, at the north-eastern coast of the Strait of Magellan

Back at the Antipode!

Hello from Rio Gallegos! Andrew and I arrived in this wind-blown city at the tip of the continent of South America on Valentine’s Day, after spending 24 beautifully hot and sweaty hours in the capitol city of Buenos Aires. Our first few days were spent doing logistical things like getting our rental car,  buying picks and shovels, and reviewing satellite imagery. We really amused the employees of a paint shop by requesting empty paint pails (they are a good size and strength for shipping rock samples), which they had to have someone go fetch from the trash. This morning, John and Rene set off to the southern Andes to do some work with their Argentine colleagues Jorge, Bettina and Hugo. For the next two weeks, Andrew and I will wander these wild plains, working to unlock their secrets about the glacial history of the past million years. We’ll also drink some cheap and delicious Argentine malbec, eat empanadas, and amuse the local population with our crappy Spanish and foreign mannerisms. And I promise that I will try my best to hold back from petting all the sweet and hopeful looking faces of the stray dogs that seem to own these streets.

Me and Hugo Corbella enjoying the view of Buenos Aires from his 19th floor flat.

Dr. Rene Barendregt (Renato de Las Pampas), Master Andrew La Croix (Andre La Cruz), and Dr. John Clague (Juan de Patagonia) in front of our home away from home in Rio Gallegos.

Exploring some sediment exposures south of the city during our first day of field work.