Success Finding Diamonds at the Crater of Diamonds State Park

As I keep finding them, I will keep "dropping" them into the stream of posts, to provide a little variety.  If you find threads on Twitter about "Arkansas diamond finds", there are usually one or two people with the notion that "if you find something big, "they" will take it away from you.

It ain't so!  You keep ANYTHING YOU FIND.  It is the only place on Earth where you can "mine" your own diamond(s).

Down Memory Lane, Lurching I Go, Again ... Part 6

 Amongst the weekly events in the Eagle Mts. were shows put on by the U.S. Air Force, from Holloman Air Force Base, near Alamogordo, NM.  On a different day each week, we would hear jets flying through the mountains, but we only saw a single F-15 one time, on the west side of the mountains.  

We had climbed up a slope and were seated under a shady overhang, resting when an F-15 came cruising north over Red Light Bolson, about eye level with us, parallel with the mountain front. 

On the LAST DAY of fieldwork, Dan and I were standing on a ridge near the eastern edge of the mountains, between two canyons leading out from the interior of the mountains. According to the topo map, the canyons were about 500 feet deep.  All of a sudden, sound and movement from our left caught our attention.  

Two F-15s were "hauling ass" down from the interior of the mountains.  We were facing the north canyon and the first F-15 flew below us.  How many common folks get to look down on an F-15 as it flies below us?  Immediately after, the 2nd F-15 flew behind us, slightly higher.  And away they went, across Eagle Flat and beyond. What a send-off!  As we were atop the ridge, I wonder if either pilot saw us?

There was another weekly show, also on an irregular schedule, in which a single B-52 came lumbering over the highest peaks of the mountains.  It seemed like it was only maybe a few hundred feet above Eagle Peak.  As we never knew when either flight was coming over, the weight of the 35 mm camera was a liability.  If I had a camera in hand, perhaps the B-52 was slow enough to catch, but no way on the F-15s.

On another subject, is a story I used for classes on Soil Development.  When we ventured around the southwestern end of the mountains to work on Dan's SW quadrant, we stayed at an unnamed windmill and cattle tank that was "seated" on a mass of Cretaceous sandstone.  I don't recall if it was part of the rim and outer slope of the caldera or if it was part of that 1/2 mile-long mass of Cretaceous rocks that fell (or slid) into the caldera.

Regardless, we quickly observed that associated with this extended sandstone outcrop was almost NO SOIL.  Perhaps some wind-deposited "blow sand", with no clay for the anchoring our tent stakes.  Dan slept in his tent, I used my aged four-man tent to keep our ice chests and other supplies in the shade.  But there was nowhere to sink the stakes. 

Finally, we found an area where cattle had congregated long ago and left behind a "soil" composed of 4 or 5 inches of well-aged, powdered, compacted cow poop.  It didn't smell bad, even when it rained, but it sure was slippery.  I guess we were there for a couple of weeks, with a view that included the Indio Mts. to the south.

As with East Mill, there was a water trough to which the local animals had become familiar with.  It was a few yards down the hill.  The first night, for well over an hour, a coyote stood in the darkness and yipped its disapproval over our proximity to its water source.  After it discovered that we were neither leaving nor shooting at it, it likely learned a different access route to the trough, as all was quiet afterward.

After that site, we moved a little more west and north and camped on the slopes of a large alluvial fan, with a good westward view of Red Light Bolson.  (There were no amenities, such as a well or cattle tank.)  

While we were at that site, a large storm blew in (a dying hurricane?) and visited us for a few days, during which there was a constant low ceiling, blustery winds, and intermittent rain.  As I hadn't bothered to fix my antenna, we were unable to access weather reports.  (I don't recall if I had removed my CB radio or we just couldn't pick up any chatter.)  There was a great deal of cloud-to-cloud lightning at night and during the day, the peaks were obscured by Banner Stratus Clouds (aka Draping Stratus Clouds).  It was spooky but cool.

Figure 1.

After a couple of days of that, we went back to Van Horn for supplies, as usual.  I don't remember if we stayed in an inexpensive motel for one night, as one of Dan's "hi-tech" tent poles had snapped (or else he sheltered in my storage tent).  

On the way out, as we rounded a curve near East Mill, in 4 wheel-drive at 10 mph, my truck was actually doing a "4 wheel drift" in the surface mud on the road, fortunately, it wasn't deep and I followed my Dad's directions and made it out, though it was a bit worrisome.

Down Memory Lane, Lurching I Go, Again ... Part 5

 Just a few more memories of 10 weeks in the Eagle Mts., 1978.  I was there to do fieldwork for my Master's Thesis, but personal "life experiences" the following year knocked me off-track for a while.  Despite that, I enjoy the memories of adventures in a vehicle that I would own for 10 and 1/2 years.  (And I still miss that old truck during times of nostalgia.)

Figure 1.

After a year and a half in grad school and some "normal" four-wheeling, I had no idea what awaited me in the Eagle Mts., as far as challenges go.  Prior to getting this 1976 J-10, my Dad gave me lessons on driving with a manual transmission and advice on dealing with the higher center-of-gravity.  (My first car had been a 1970 Pontiac LeMans.)

My Dad got a good deal on this truck from the local Pontiac/Jeep dealer, as they were clearing out the 1976 models.  Despite being a little underpowered at highway speeds, with the 256 cubic-inch "inline 6" engine and 3-speed manual transmission, it seemed "geared well" for off-road usage.

It had skid plates under the oil pan, transmission, and the 19-gallon gas tank (and I made use of those skid plates a few times).  It had no air conditioning, but as I was still young, that wasn't as much of an issue.  An advantage was that the lack of A/C made for less engine-compartment clutter, making maintenance easier, which I would appreciate later.

After we added the camper, we installed the roof hatch, indoor lights, a sturdy toolbox on the right side, plywood on the floor, and carpeting, it was to be my "home" during fieldwork and travels.  In a late-1977 visit home, prior to the Eagle Mts. fieldwork, my Dad and I installed a sliding rear cab window to allow passage between the cab and camper.  (I am eternally grateful for his support and assistance.)

For my long-distance commutes between GA & TX, the final touch was adding a CB radio (it had the basic AM/FM radio), to keep up with road conditions.

One bit of prep missing was practice in shifting from 4x4 High Range to 4x4 Low Range for the really challenging sections of mountain roads.  If memory serves me correctly, in 4-wheel drive, you had to be coasting in neutral at 5 - 7 mph (or something like that) to make the shift.  So you had to plan carefully.  

For those that haven't had the "fun", with a manual transmission, you have 3 pedals for your 2 feet to operate.  If you stalled-out on a steep mountain road in High Range, getting restarted and moving forward was quite the worrisome experience.  (I think these experiences were the genesis of some of my later phobias.)

"Normal" driving in the Eagle Mts. was grinding around in first gear, 4-wheel-drive, at 10 mph.  There was one stretch of road, perhaps 1/4 mile long, where I could shift into 2nd gear.  The weeks of hitting normal bumps and half-buried cobbles, ruts, and gully-crossings took their toll.

A quick summary of the toll taken by the rough roads, over the Summer of 1978:

• One flat tire, one cut-sidewall (needing replacement).
• Two broken engine mounts and a broken transmission mount (discovered at the same time).
• Carburetor components loosened by vibrations (leaking gas).
• A lost right-side mirror and radio antenna.
• nough brake fluid lost that my pedal went to the floor on a steep, downhill slope.  (Pumping it brought it back.)  I always carried containers of "vital fluids" in my toolbox, as well as tools and a small "bottle" hydraulic jack.
  

All in all, the truck got me around and back home each time. Another cropped up a couple of years later.  The water pump gave out and fixing it cost about $200 in parts and labor.  When it happened again a year later, I had a repair manual by then and decided to do it myself.  It took 3 hours, but it saved money and gave a sense of accomplishment.  

From then on, like clockwork, once a year, it would happen.  I learned to listen for a particular extra "whirring" sound and I carried an extra water pump, water, antifreeze, and tools.  I gradually learned tricks and shaved the time down to 30 minutes the last time I did it.

I kept that truck until mid-1987.  After getting married in 1984 and adopting a baby girl in late-1986, there just wasn't a safe place for a car seat in the cab.  [In middle-1981, I had purchased a used 1981 Datsun long bed pickup for traveling and had equipped it with a camper, also.]  I traded both in on a 1987 4x4 Jeep Cherokee for the continuation of my fieldwork near Aden Crater.

BTW, I had my biggest mechanical scare with the Jeep truck, the last time I took it to Aden Crater.  Leaving the parking area on the slopes of the shield volcano, after bouncing over a rough lava flow, I heard a loud "clunk" from the engine compartment.  I turned off the engine and opened the hood.  

The battery had come loose from its clamp and had fallen against a pulley, which cut into the casing and sprayed battery acid "all-around" the engine compartment.  I quickly clamped it back in and prayed it would start.  The sun was low in the western sky and it was a long walk to the only ranch house in sight and we had no idea of how they greeted strangers at dusk.

Thankfully, it cranked and got us back to the edge of town.  We stopped at a convenience store to see if it would crank again (it didn't).  The damaged cell had drained completely.  We called somebody to pick us up and I got a new battery the next day.

A chapter was over.  Over the years, that truck had taken me from Phoenix to Atlanta to Ottawa and Montreal, through mountains in Arizona, Utah, Colorado, New Mexico, Texas, Arkansas, and Georgia.  I hope it continued to have "a good life" and served others well.  In the words of Neil Young, "Long May You Run".

[I used to think that if I ever won a REALLY BIG lottery prize, I would hire a Private Investigator to research the VIN, and if it still existed, go and buy it back.  Dreams, dreams.]

[A few more stories and References, tomorrow.]

Amazing Invention Demonstrated by Man from Georgia Who Designed and Buil...

My Own Exhumed Landscape Story in Georgia

 As a follow-up to this story on the Wichita Mountains as an "Exhumed Permian Landscape" is my own smaller-scaled "Exhumed post-Miocene Landscape" on the Georgia Coastal Plain (see "Youngest Formations" in this link).  

It was about 20 years ago, while I was working on the Georgia Geologic Survey STATEMAP Project, east of the Flint River, I was mapping a portion of Turkey Creek (with the permission of the Turkey Creek Hunting Club) on the Drayton USGS 7.5 minute quadrangle (Summerour, 1999).

In an area with an "Asymmetrical" creek valley (bluff on the south side, flood plain on the north) at this particular location, the bluff was on the "outside" of a meander.  Per this link's definition, looking downstream (southwest), this area had a local "Positive Asymmetry", i.e., bluff on the left, gentle slope (flood plain) on the right. 

At the base of the bluff, at creek's waterline (and just above) was a Middle Eocene Lisbon Formation "marl" (a sandy, calcareous, glauconitic clay), with numerous interesting small marine fossils.  

The matrix disaggregated easily in water revealing a mix of tiny Comatulid Crinoid centrodorsals (and other "pieces) (Microcrinus conoideus), small Brachiopods (Terebratulina sp.), small Echinoids (Echinocyamus parvus, Protoscutella conradi.), as well as other small fossils and microfossils (Summerour, 1999), some of which facilitated paleontological research (Oyen and Summerour, 2002) and 32 of which were donated to the Florida Museum of Natural History Invertebrate Paleontology collection.

On the bluff, above the "marl" was interpreted to be Late Eocene Clinchfield Formation marine sands, all the way to the top of the bluff (perhaps 30 feet (+/-)).  I don't recall if there was any thin or discontinuous Miocene Altamaha Formation at the very top of the bluff or not.

The Altamaha Formation is composed of clays, gravels, sands, all of which are interpreted to be fluvial.  The Altamaha Formation commonly comprises the surficial deposits of the Inner Coastal Plain.

During my solo mapping sessions and field-checking by colleagues, it was generally agreed that the north side (inside) of the meander was eroded Altamaha Formation, though it was significantly lower than the top of the bluff.  

This led to some time spent in deep contemplation sitting on the bluff, both alone and other times with a colleague, wondering "What the hell happened here?"  

I had dealt with smaller asymmetrical valleys in the area, including Turkey Creek, upstream and east of the town of Byromville.  In that and the other local cases, the side opposite the bluff was usually covered with terrace alluvial deposits and the topographic contrast was not as prominent.

It had been about 22 years since my Geomorphology course and I hadn't given much recent thought to "exhumed landscapes", though I had consulted Thornbury (1968) to make my case for isolated low "sand ridges" adjacent to some creeks being "non-paired, non-cyclical terraces in an asymmetrical valley" elsewhere in the study area.

Anyway, as I sat on the Late Eocene in the upper part of the bluff, I looked across Turkey Creek AND DOWN at the Miocene on the other side.  Though the proper word "exhumed" didn't jump out at me, I sensed that "something old was being uncovered", i.e., something from a previous cycle of erosion and deposition was exposed across the creek, rather than the "normal" flood plain deposits.  

As I couldn't properly articulate what I had seen (and I was on a schedule to finish and move elsewhere), I chose not to include that in my report. 

References:

Oyen, C. W. and Summerour, J. H., 2002  New records of comatulid crinoids from the Eocene of Southwestern Georgia; (abs.) Geological Society of America Abstracts with Programs, vol. 34, #2, p. A117.

Summerour, J. H., 1999  Geologic Atlas of the Byromville, Drayton, and Leslie, Georgia 7.5 minute quadrangles; Georgia Geologic Survey Digital Open-File Report 99-1, 42 pp., 4 pl.

I Reveal My Most Favorite Spot to Find Diamonds at Arkansas' Crater of D...

A Visit to an Exhumed Permian Landscape

 Not by me, but by Wayne Ranney's Earthly Musings blog.

His visit was to southwestern Oklahoma, of the Fort Sill and Wichita Mountains area, visiting sites related to U.S. History and Geology on the same journey.  The first "half" of his post is related to the latter-19th Century history of this U.S. Army fort.  Interesting and thought-provoking.   [BTW, my Dad's artillery unit spent part of its WWII training in early- to mid-1943 at Fort Sill.]

The Wichita Mountains are composed of Precambrian to Eocambrian igneous rocks (of which the Mount Scott Intrusive Suite forms a significant part) and Cambrian and Ordovician sedimentary rocks (north of the Meers Fault) (Price, 2014).  

The igneous rocks are associated with magmatism during the formation of the "Southern Oklahoma Aulacogen" (SOA), late-Proterozoic to earliest-Paleozoic failed continental rifting of the supercontinent "Pannotia" (Price, 2014).   

The "Basement-Cored Uplifts" associated with the Wichita Mountains (trending NW to SE) include the Arbuckle Mountains to the east and westward extend as far as the Uncompahgre Uplift in Colorado and Utah and is associated with the Ancestral Rocky Mountains.  Essentially parallel to the north in Oklahoma and the Texas Panhandle is the Anadarko Basin.

Wayne's second "half" of the post is about the Wichita Mountains area as an "Exhumed Permian Landscape", i.e., what we see now is what was exposed, eroded, and then covered by Mesozoic and Cenozoic sedimentary rocks.  And then exposed again by post-Cenozoic erosion. 

In other words, in this setting, we are looking at late-Paleozoic landforms, adorned with numerous plants that have appeared in the fossil record and evolved during the Mesozoic and Cenozoic Eras.  Quite thought-provoking.

[In William D. Thornbury's classic "Principles of Geomorphology" (1968), Fundamental Concept 7 is: "Little of the Earth's topography is older than Tertiary and most of it no older than Pleistocene."  From Thornbury (1968): "Ashley (1931) has made a strong case for the youthfulness of our topography.  He believed that 'most of the world's scenery, its mountains, valleys, shores, lakes, rivers, waterfalls, cliffs, and canyons are post-Miocene ... "

Fundamental Concept 8 is: "Proper interpretations of present-day landscapes is impossible without a full appreciation of the manifold influences of the geologic and climatic changes during the Pleistocene."  Without going into too much detail, just consider the effects of glaciation and inter-glaciation related changes in the Ultimate Base Level.]

[Please spend time on the above-linked Earthly Musings post.]

For more interesting reading, please visit Wayne Ranney's personal blog, "All in a Days Karma". 

Figure 1.  Saddle Mountain, north of Wichita Mountains Wilderness.  Public Domain image.  Eocambrian Saddle Mountain Granite, Wichita Granite Group.

For a personal aside, I have my own perceived "Exhumed Landscape" story, on the Georgia Coastal Plain.  [When the post is completed, it will be linked here.] 

More on Exhumed Landscapes are here, here, and here.  [Haven't read these, yet.]

Additional References:

Ashley, G.H., 1931  Our youthful scenery, Bulletin Geological Society of America, vol. 42, pp. 537 - 546.

Price, J.D., 2014  The Mount Scott Intrusive Suite, Wichita Mountains, Oklahoma, in Igneous and Tectonic History of the Southern Oklahoma Aulacogen, Oklahoma Geological Survey Guidebook 38, pp. 299 - 318.

Suneson, N.H., 2019  Roadside Geology of Oklahoma, Mountain Press

Index to "What a Geologist Sees", #1 - #20

 I began blogging in February 2005, in the aftermath of the suicide of "gonzo journalist" Hunter S. Thompson.  I sort of "fell into it", I was reading a geology blog and I figured out that "Hey, this is free!", so I decided to "dive in".  

As mentioned below, for the first few years, it was a mixture of politics and science.  Long about 2011, I decided to dump "the politics" and focus on the Geology and related "outdoor" sciences, as most of my work career (except for teaching) was outdoors, as I preferred.

One of the things I used to do on this blog was a series called "What a Geologist Sees" as a recognition of the paramount Scientific importance of Observation, coupled with Curiosity.  These posts, beginning in July 2007 were largely based upon things I had seen and places I had visited.   

As follows: 

Within the series, nine+ years ago I started to re-order the posts (it seemed to make sense at the time, as I was retiring my original blog to get rid of the distracting political posts, i.e., just to focus on the science).  Scrolling downward the series begins with 1, 2, 3, ... , to 25 (until I got distracted).  

For some reason, I skipped #26a on the Bisti Badlands (actually posted yesterday, 10/26/20), and the "unadjusted" Posts - with the original post date (as one scrolls down) descends from #37 (which was my contribution for a periodic consortium on an un-related geo-blog).  For forgotten reasons, #26b serves as an intro to #26a, #32 is slightly out-of-order and some of the "original post dates" seem out-of-order, as well.  As this was about 9 and 1/2 years ago, the reasons are a mystery.  (It was such a "different world" at the time.)  

[Disclaimer: If I have some things posted inaccurately, blame it on the morning, looming errands, chores, and senior moments amidst the chaos.]

I finished post #26a yesterday, just to give an example of what I was doing, from 2007 - 2011.  

Here is a basic Partial Index for "What a Geologist Sees" Posts #1 - #20.  (With a brief subject "thumbnail".)  

1. Observations from the South Rim of the Grand Canyon.

2. Physical Geology Principles in the field.

3. Xenoliths in the Elberton Granite.

4. Georgia Piedmont Chattahoochee Paleogravels. 

5. Alluvial Fans. 

6. Grad School field trips, New Mexico.

7. Undergrad "Thesis", Georgia Piedmont. 

8. Mineral Characteristics, Identification.

9. Weathering of Rocks and Minerals.

10. Prolonged Drought Effects, Hall County, Georgia.

10b. Prolonged Drought Effects, Hall County, Georgia.

11. A "Bonanza Slab" of Fossils.

12. Shallow Aquifer Wells, Burke County, GA.

13. Kilbournes Hole Maar Volcano Tuff Ring.

14. Mantle Xenoliths in New Mexico and Arizona.

15. Xenoliths and Other Inclusions.

16. Muscovite as an Electrical Insulator.

17. Beach Ripples with Raindrop Impressions.

18. Tiny Spatter Vent, Aden Basalts.

19. Chief Mountain, Glacier National Park, Erosional Outlier.

20. Monument Valley Erosional Outliers, Arid Weathering

21 - 37 will be posted soon.   

Understanding Laminar and Turbulent Flow

Not to get too deeply into Engineering, Physics, or "Heavy Math" (it's Monday, after all), knowing the difference between Laminar Flow and Turbulent Flow, in relation to streams and rivers, can help us understand stream-bottom morphology (scour vs. deposition) and sediment-deposition patterns. It also helps to understand how stream-gradient, velocity, and discharge help dictate which "regime" of Laminar vs. Turbulent is present.

I Found A REAL DIAMOND: Mining For Diamonds In Arkansas

What a Geologist Sees - Part 26a Bisti Badlands, NM

Originally posted as "What a Geologist Sees - Part 26a", I'm not sure why it is out-of-order with the others.

[As this was my favorite Summer Job, which happened during a consequential year (1979), it is a recurring theme on this blog.]

This year was the 41st anniversary of my "best summer job, ever."  As suggested by a fellow Geologist on Facebook, "It was the time of my life" as far as depicted by my reminisces.  It was, though it was a little more complicated than depicted on Facebook.

It was a Fossil Recovery Project in the Bisti Badlands, a few miles south of Farmington, NM, specifically the De-Na-Zin Wash area. 

Figure 1.

Federal and New Mexico government "antiquities laws" require Archeology and Fossil Recovery projects prior to the opening of an open-pit coal mine (that now occupies the site).  The study was funded by Western Coal Company and overseen by Geology professors from the University of New Mexico (UNM), University of Texas El Paso (UTEP), and the New Mexico Bureau of Geology & Mineral Resources.  (Prior to our work, the area had already undergone an Archeological Recovery Project by students of UNM.)

In the 440 mile trek from El Paso to Farmington, NM, I was leaving behind the wreckage of my first serious love affair (I was a late bloomer), just one of those life experiences that didn't turn out well. During the summer, I was to learn more about the “why it happened”, but “enough said about that”.

At that time, I had about 2 and 1/2 years to get used to the Desert Southwest, living in El Paso.  I had seen images of classic "badlands topography", but this was my first in-person experience.  After becoming acclimated to the visual starkness of the Bisti Badlands, we settled in on what our jobs entailed for the next 6 weeks.   

Figure 2.

Figure 3.

When my field partner and I arrived at the worksite (in our separate pickup trucks, each with a camper shell), we were given our instructions on where to start and we were given our maps (which were the most detailed, best topo maps a geologist could hope for). 

If my memory serves me, after 41 years, the scale may have been 1:100 with 5-foot contours, which made it very easy to figure out where you were, which was very important for the Fossil Recovery Project. One of our professors was there to start us off and he came up to check on us every couple of weeks or so.

After our professor explained our tasks to us, that we were to mark every discovered fossil site on the map, assign a specimen number, and in the case of dinosaur (or other vertebrate) bones, we were to collect and bag every fragment and mark any "big pieces" for recovery by UNM personnel later.  As for permineralized wood and any invertebrates (freshwater clamshells), we were to mark the site and collect samples.

We were in the San Juan Basin, working in the Cretaceous Fruitland Formation (Fm. abbreviation), to clear the area for a future coal mine. We were to sample and record the map locations of any occurrences of invertebrate fossils (freshwater clams) and permineralized (petrified) wood. When we found dinosaur bones (or other vertebrate fossils), we were to collect and bag all bone fragments and to record the map locations.

For the larger fossils (as with the dino bone pictured in Figure 2), the Univ. of New Mexico would come in later and do their plaster-casting thing. Sometimes it would take two hours of being on my hands and knees to pick up every bone fragment. The idea was that the Univ. of New Mexico lab students would attempt to glue the fragments back together along with any larger pieces found nearby. Sort of like putting together a large jigsaw puzzle without a picture to guide you.

The environment of deposition of the Late Cretaceous Fruitland Fm. was somewhat similar to today's Everglades. The Fruitland Fm. was primarily composed of soft clays (which give rise to the "Badlands-type" topography), along with a few sandy stream channel deposits (which we would sample and screen for small vertebrate (rodent) teeth. It was from these channel deposits that we also collected the fresh-water clams.

After suffering through rain every day (except one) of the first two weeks, things settled down. The clays in the Fruitland Fm. are like grease when wet. So my field partner and I spent our time trapped in our respective truck campers, waiting out the rain. This is why I always stash books in my car trunk, in case I ever get stranded again, so I will at least have something to read.

One of the early things that I learned was that you always had to have your rock hammer with you, in case you slid into one of the ravines. They weren't terribly deep, but you couldn't get out unless you hacked crude stair steps into the clay, one at a time. Even when it was dry it was difficult to clamber out with the steps cut into the clay. You also had to use your rock hammer to pull yourself up the slope, by slamming the sharp, chisel end of the "shale pick" into the clay.

A couple of quick facts: 1) The "erosion pedestals" pictured in Figure 4 and Figure 5 were capped (protected) by hardened sandstone lenses or sometimes chunks of permineralized wood. 2) We covered about two and one-half square miles in 6 weeks (actually 4 weeks after the rain stopped).

Figure 4.

Figure 5.

We were supposed to go back there in 1980, but the area is a checkerboard of Federal and State land and each has their own permits and regulations that have to be reconciled before fossil collecting (recovery) is allowed. I am not sure if we were on Navajo Reservation land, or just close.

Aside from the dinosaur bones we found, we found fragments of large turtle shells (I was told by my professor that we might have found a new species of turtle), and crocodile "scutes" (bony plates) (Figure 3).

On a side-note, as I didn't really get along with my field partner (our personalities were just different), he chose to hang out at the motel on our days off (Tues. and Wed.) and drink beer, while I drove up into Colorado and other places and drank beer there and took pictures.

Despite the fact that I enjoyed that summer job, I do have a few regrets from that adventure:

1) I should have talked my field partner into shifting our off days to Sat./Sun, so I could have hung out over at the Univ. of New Mexico Archeology field camp. There were a lot more female students in Archeology than there were in Geology at that time. 

Maybe I could have talked one of them into going with me on some four-wheeling/camping adventures in the mountains around Silverton or Durango, CO. (I had a 4X4 Jeep pickup with a camper shell).  (Remember, I was in the dragged-out process of having my heart broken.  To have someone to talk to during that time would have been most helpful.)

2) I should have had a back-up 35mm camera when I went back to Arches National Monument. When I was there two years earlier, the shutter had jammed on my Miranda Sensorex II camera, though it somehow unjammed later (on the earlier trip in 1977). I got photos from Canyonlands and Mesa Verde, but none from Arches.

I specifically drove back to Arches to get some photos and the same thing happened again (when it was happening, the operation of the camera sounded normal). So I have been to Arches National Monument twice and don't have a single photo to show for it. After the shutter jammed, I got no more slides for the summer.  (Fixed that in 2016.)

3) I should have gone to Shiprock, NM, and maybe over towards Monument Valley (but then my camera might have betrayed me there, too).  (Fixed that in 2015.)

4) My paycheck for the summer job was pretty decent in 1979. $2200 for six weeks - mid-May through June. But I didn't get paid until the end. The money, from Western Coal Co., was "funneled" through UT El Paso and that is where the checks were cut. 

They wouldn't mail them to me and they wouldn't let my professor bring them to me. I had to borrow money from my professor and from my parents and use credit cards to be able to travel at all. My biggest purchase (after I finally got my paychecks and after I paid everyone back) was a Pentax MX camera, to replace the aging Miranda.

5) I wanted to pan for gold in the Silverton, CO area, but because of heavy snowmelt, the creeks and rivers were full to the brim with muddy water. And because of the heavy snows, I couldn't get back into some of the backcountry areas in the San Juan Mts. until the last week of June, for photography and mineral collecting.

6) I should have picked up more "clinker zone" samples. When an underground coal seam burns (very slowly), it bakes the shales above and below the coal seam. We found a clinker zone of baked red shale with Cretaceous plant fossils (leaves and stems) (Figure 6). I only picked up two pieces of the shale with plant fossils, I should have spent an hour there.

Figure 6.

So it was an adventure of a lifetime, though it was smudged by the El Paso disappointments and the camera foul-ups. 

Everything happens for a reason, even if we don't understand at the time.

I hope someday to return again and get some damn photos of Arches and then make a side trip to Monument Valley.  [I did both in 2015 and 2016.]

I will probably post a few more photos related to the project (I got a few hundred slides before the shutter crapped out). [Oh, I forgot to mention the story about my encounter with the redneck cop in Ouray, CO. That will have to wait.]

YOUR ARKANSAS DIAMOND HUNT BEGINS AT HOME!!

[Just a reminder: Before you take any sort of power dredge or sluicing system out into a creek, please check for any State or Federal restrictions on their use.  To be honest, their overuse can be disruptive to creek or river ecosystems as the larval stages of numerous aquatic invertebrates may be buried in the shallow sand of the bottom sediments.  And if it happens to be locally restricted or banned, your equipment may be confiscated.] 

2015 Arizona Trip #1 - Day 3 (Part 2)

 To revisit the waning hours of Days 1 & 2 of the 2015 Arizona Trip #1, in the final miles of Interstate 20 in west Texas, the Apache Mountains (due West) and the Davis Mountains (due South) are direct indications of significant changes from the subtle roadside Geology of the southern Great Plains.  

The Apache Mountains and the Davis Mountains mark the easternmost extent of the rugged landscapes of the Basin and Range Province (and the Davis Mountains represent the eastern parts of the Trans-Pecos Volcanic Field).    

Upon leaving the nostalgia of the Eagle Mts., after passing through Sierra Blanca, Texas, Interstate 10 begins a noticeable topographic drop into the Rio Grande Valley (aka Hueco Bolson).  To the north, are the Malone Mountains, composed of Jurassic(?)/Early Cretaceous limestones, considered part of the Chihuahua Tectonic Belt.  To the south are the Quitman Mountains, composed of caldera-related Oligocene volcanics and intrusives. 

Malone Mountains

Figure 1.

Quitman Mountains

Figure 2.

Immediately west of both mountain ranges (foregrounds of both photos) are coalescing alluvial fan sediments, derived from the weathering and erosion of these mountain ranges, overlying and interfingering with the Fort Hancock Formation and overlying the older Camp Rice Fm basinal sediments associated with the local history of the Basin and Range Province and the Rio Grande River (as well as the Rio Grande Rift).     

A little further downslope on both sides of I-10 are 3 or 4 enigmatic "basalt knobs" of uncertain age and origin (unless interpretations have changed since I left the area in 1991).  There is one knob south (left) of the freeway and 2 or 3 north.  

Are they exposed shallow basalt intrusions or dissected shield volcanoes or dissected cinder cones?  Are they associated with the Oligocene Quitman Mts. or with the younger Rio Grande Rift?  (In the background of "South Knob" are the Sierra de Los Frailes, in Mexico.)

"South Knob"

Figure 3.

"North Knob" (closest to I-10)

Figure 4.

As all of this land visible is presumably privately-owned, accessibility for geologic study is uncertain.  I remain hopeful that someone will study these enigmatic features and determine "where they fit" in the regional scheme of things.  

Along the northwestward I-10 corridor, they are the last post-Proterozoic igneous rocks until the Eocene Campus Andesite and the Cerro de Cristo Rey Andesite intrusions, immediately northwest of downtown El Paso.  [A side detail of these photos is that they show the flora (vegetation) characteristic of gradual slopes in the Chihuahuan Desert, dominated by Creosote Bush, Mesquite, and Ocotillo.]

[At the time when I needed to find a new Thesis project in 1985, inquiring about the accessibility of these sites did not cross my mind.  My 1985 (starting date) Thesis turned out to be interesting, but still, it is one of my regrets that I didn't find out more about these "basalt knobs", west of the Quitman Mountains.] 

At the bottom of the long westward descent, I-10 "bottoms out" near the edge of the Rio Grande floodplain between Mile Markers 84 to 82, then begins a long ascent that brought us into the eastern edge of El Paso.  

At exit 72 is the sign for Fort Hancock, Texas, the place in the movie The Shawshank Redemption - where Andy Dufresne and later "Red" Redding, crossed the Rio Grande into Mexico (and freedom) on a bus to the Mexican Pacific coast.  

The trouble is, from the Mexican village of El Porvenir (across from Fort Hancock), there is no paved highway into the interior of the country, due to the mountain ranges.  One would either have to go upstream to El Paso/Juarez (closer) or substantially downstream to Presidio, Texas, and Ojinaga, Chihuahua to catch a bus into the interior.

As we got closer to El Paso, I made some cellphone calls to arrange brief meetings with a longtime friend (Jeniffer), my old girlfriend (Janet), and the Best Man in my 1984 wedding (Doug), as well as a local beer can collector (Wiley).  As we arrived at the truck stop on the east side of El Paso, to meet Jeniffer for breakfast, I noticed something stuck to my left shoe, i.e., impaled by an Ocotillo stem.  This is why I wear closed-toe shoes when I drive, in case I stop for photos, as I did at the Eagle Mts. exit.  

Ocotillo Stem

Figure 5.

After an enjoyable breakfast with Jeniffer, we said "Adios" and resumed our trek.  Next, Neal, Sarah (the dog), and I met Janet at a Starbucks near the airport on I-10. 

Janet was the reason for the breakup in 1979 that brought things "crashing down".  I was a "late bloomer" and took things too hard when we broke up.  Anyway, we had reconciled many years later and had revived a friendship that lasted until after the 2016 elections, when some unfortunate, rude things were said on Facebook.  

I don't mind honest, polite disagreements, but some name-calling resulted in things "getting put on ice" (again).  I try to value friendships over politics, but to too many folks, it is a one-way street.  So it goes.  

Next, we met Wiley on the west side of El Paso, near Trans-Mountain Road and I-10, to swap some full craft beer cans and "shoot the breeze" for a bit.  No politics, just a friendly conversation.

We then went a few miles more to meet Doug, my Best Man at my first wedding.  Another case of strained relations due to political differences.  After Marla's passing, I was hoping for a reset, but as Thomas Wolfe said: "You can't go home again".  The meeting was cordial, but the effect was brief.

With the socializing done, the only thing remaining to be done was to drive the final 400 (+/-) miles to Phoenix and get there before dark.  (Which we did drained though we were.)

We made a photo stop at the I-10 West rest area in the Little Dragoon Mts., Cochise County, Arizona.  It's a good place to see examples of "Spheroidal Weathering".

Figure 6.  Spheroidal Weathering in the Texas Canyon Granite.

By sundown, we were rejuvenated enough to enjoy the sunset from my daughter's rental home.

Figure 7.

 

Resources:

Physiographic features, Trans-Pecos region, Underwood, James R. Jr., 1980 in: Trans Pecos Region (West Texas); Dickerson, P.W.; Hoffer, J.M.; Callendar, J.F. [eds.], New Mexico Geological Society 31st Annual Fall Field Conference Guidebook, 308 pp. 

Pleistocene rocks in El Paso and Hudspeth Counties, Texas adjacent to Interstate Highway 10, Strain, W.S., 1980 in: Trans Pecos Region (West Texas); Dickerson, P.W.; Hoffer, J.M.; Callendar, J.F. [eds.], New Mexico Geological Society 31st Annual Fall Field Conference Guidebook, 308 pp.   

[More resources to be added...]