Where is that contact again?, Montana, Fall 2005.

Many people in New England had their first taste of winter today with a wet, slushy snowfall. Here on Cape Cod we haven’t had any snow yet, but we’ve had nasty, cold rain all day. Today’s cold rain is my least-favorite sort of weather for geology fieldwork. I don’t mind snow- except when it accumulates so much that you cannot see the rocks. My second least-favorite weather for geology fieldwork is a hot summer day in the Middle East. But at least the heat is a dry heat and you can guzzle liters of gatorade. I definitely prefer the dry desert heat of Jordan (which is more moderate than Saudi or Oman, but still intense) in August to the just-above-freezing weather that produces cold rain and sometimes slush. Weather forecasters call this sort of precipitation “wintry mix.”

Wintry mix sounds festive, but New Englanders groan at such a forecast. I’ll take real snow over wintry mix any day. Wintry mix just means that the slushy rain is going to freeze into ice once the temperature drops at night. Wintry mix just means that in addition to being cold you are going to be soaking wet. Wintry mix just means that you can’t wear your snug, down-stuffed winter gear, which flattens and thus becomes less-warm in the rain. Instead, you have layer sweaters and fleeces under your rain jacket and wear two pairs of wool socks in your rain boots or hiking boots. Wintry mix means that your “Rite-in-the-Rain” field notebook is going to malfunction… this is the only sort of weather in which I’ve found it difficult to write in those robust, amazing field notebooks. Personally, I advocate changing the name of wintry mix to “wintry sh*t.”

I prefer fieldwork in snowy weather over wintry mix weather because even though the temperature is lower, you feel warmer because you’re not wet. Of course, geology fieldwork in the snow is somewhat problematic, even if you can keep yourself warm. Geologists dislike anything (vegetation, houses, water, alluvium, etc.) covering up the rocks they are trying to examine. Snowfall therefore presents a problem.

Although less-than-ideal, I have done some geology fieldwork in the snow. During my undergraduate field program, we did some mapping in Montana in early September. We had to shovel the snow off the outcrops in order to identify them. The teaching assistants took pity on us and helped us find key contacts, at least.  Most recently, I was on a geology trip in Switzerland & Italy and had to hike through significant snowfall… in early June! We didn’t expect or even particularly dress for heavy snow, but we didn’t let that stop the field trip. Geologists are tough… though a few of us did purchase some expensive (Switzerland is expensive!) hats and gloves.

A long climb, The Alps, Italy, June 2010.

White-out!, The Alps, Switzerland, June 2010.

There is one good thing about doing geology in the snow, though… at least you know when bears (and other snowprint-leaving animals) are around!

Rite-in-the-Rain field notebook (for scale) and bear track, Montana, Fall 2005.

Another good thing about doing geology in the snow/wintry mix is that it feels wonderful to go back to a hot meal and a warm cabin/tent at the end of the day… particularly when your cabin looks like this: 

Beautiful cabin, The Alps, Italy, June 2010.

We didn’t actually stay in this cabin (I think Heidi lives there), but we stayed in a quaint little hotel just down the hill a bit. Beautiful, especially because there was no snow at lower elevations.

Okay, it’s time for me to drive home through the wintry mix. I hope the roads aren’t frozen yet!

Geology trips often involve very long drives. Rocks are sometimes conveniently exposed in the vicinity of civilization, such as at roadcuts, but often reaching rocks of interest requires a long, exciting drive. Or not so exciting, depending on the location. For instance, for my very first geology field trip I went on a two-week Western USA tour with a group of geology students and professors from Florida State University. Florida is pretty much just limestone, so to see other types of rocks the geology department goes on long drives and also cultivates a rock garden full of basalts and granites and such. The first day of this field trip, we drove twelve hours from Tallahassee to Texas. Not the most exciting day, but necessary to reach the rocks. 

When doing fieldwork for research, I generally ride to the rocks in a stylish Land Cruiser such as these:

Land Cruisers in Oman, January 2009.

 Land Cruisers are great when you have a few scientists and some gear. They can cross some impressive terrain and carry many hundreds of pounds of rocks. I actually prefer the older models (right) to the newer models (left). The newer models are shiny, but I think they’re less-powerful.

However, Land Cruisers are generally not sufficient for transporting large groups of geology students. For my undergraduate field program, we rolled in three Dodge Sprinter vans: 

A trio of Sprinter vans, Western USA, Fall 2005.

The Dodge Sprinter van is spacious, but that’s about all that can be said for it. Sprinter vans are ugly and are definitely not 4x4s. Sprinter vans are designed to deliver packages or flowers in town, not traverse rocky slopes. I have great respect for my geology professors and TAs… they bravely drove the Sprinter vans on coarse gravel roads, across bentonite mudflats (geologists will know just how dangerously sticky this mud is when it rains), and even through thick, slushy snowfalls.

Sprinter van in the slush, Western USA, Fall 2005.

Whatever vehicle you drive to the field, the long drives can be boring… especially in places where annoying vegetation covers up the interesting rocks.  Geologists have different ways of entertaining themselves on the long drives: iPod music mixes, books, long talks about rocks, and- last but not least- car games.

Today I am going to teach you an awesome car game to play next time you have a geologic (or any) roadtrip. Before I explain the game, however, I must warn you. After first hearing the rules, almost everyone thinks this is the stupidest game they have ever heard about. However, in my personal experience, almost everyone also ultimately ends up playing this “stupid” game. One or two steadfast skeptics usually whine about how annoying it is that everyone is playing this game. However, even these whiners usually participate randomly- generally to sabotage the person who is winning and hope that the game dies.

But the game does not die. It endures. It is often played for days at a time. Sometimes, the game is forgotten but then returns a few days later. The game is AWESOME.

Without further ado, let me introduce you to… THE COW GAME!

The cow game rules are as follows:
1. When you see cows, yell out “My cows!” Whoever yells that phrase first owns all the cows. If you call the phrase out first and can obviously count the number of cows, follow by saying, “I now have 5 cows.” If you already have 100 cows, say, “I now have 105 cows.” If you cannot count the cows, estimate how many you think there are in a particular field or barn or wherever. Participants are encouraged to argue about the number of cows a person has just claimed. Disagreements are settled by majority rule. In the case of just two people playing the game, disagreements are settled by whoever gives up first. Whoever has the most cows wins. There is no set timeframe for the end of the game, which can go on for days or even months.

2. If you see a white horse and are the first to yell “My white horse!”, your number of cows is tripled. If you call out “My white horse!” and it is really a goat or a black-and-white horse or something else upon closer inspection, all your cows die.

3. If you see a cemetary and yell “My cemetary!” (yelling “My graveyard!” is acceptable), everyone else’s cows die.

4. Cows are the most commonly owned thing. However, depending on where you are in the world you can play variations of this game. In Oman, I have played with goats (for cows) and camels (for white horses). In South Africa, I have played with ostriches (for cows) and springbok/rhinos/any other kind of cool animal (for white horses). When driving in North Carolina whitewater country, I have played with river rafts (for cows) and open canoes (for white horses… kayaks were too common). You can also decide to collect multiple types of livestock/animals/rafts.

5. Plastic/artificial giant animals, such as plastic cow signs at dairy farms, count. These add to your cow count and cannot die when someone yells “My cemetary!” Also, giant plastic animals are worth a gazillion coolness points each.

I learned the cow game on a kayaking trip in college, and I thought it was really stupid at first. Despite my initial reaction, I have now played the cow game on many long drives. I have taught the game to a few of my friends and colleagues, and now I am teaching the whole internet… though I imagine many of you have played various permutations of the game in the past.

Speaking of fake animals, during a trip to Costa Rica a couple of years ago I was lucky enough to encounter this wonderful white horse at a roadstop. I had a little trouble climbing on top… 

White horse 1, Costa Rica, June 2008.

… but I managed eventually… 

White horse 2, Costa Rica, June 2008.

A few days later on the Costa Rica trip, we had dinner at a restaurant with a giant fake cow in front. I went to climb the cow, but one of the restaurant employees followed me. I was worried and thought he was going to yell at me to stop climbing the cow. Instead, he brought me a ladder. Costa Ricans- or at least this particular man- are AWESOME… just like the cow game.

The nice Costa Rican man brings me a ladder, Costa Rica, June 2008.

Yee-haw!, Costa Rica, June 2008.

Come to think of it, I’m not sure exactly why I needed to climb the fake animals in Costa Rica… perhaps it was worth an extra gazillion coolness points.

A group of geology students learning how to “use” Brunton compasses, Western USA, Fall 2005.

Introductory geology courses have the unfortunate (or fortunate, perhaps?) reputation for being “easy” or “fun” relative to other introductory science courses such as chemistry, physics, and biology. At most colleges, the introductory geology course (Geology 101 or Introduction to Earth Science) is known as “Rocks for Jocks.” The stereotype is that jocks (e.g. guys on the football team) take introductory geology as an easy way to obtain a necessary science credit. At colleges here in the United States, even if you are not a science major you generally have to take at least one science class. At least, this is the case at liberal arts schools where students mostly take courses in their major, but also are required to fulfill broad educational requirements and take a course in subjects such as English, History, Art, Language, and-of course- Math and Science.

I have mixed feelings about the “Rocks for Jocks” stereotype. I love the name, actually. As I mentioned in my welcome post, geologists have a penchant for puns and jokes and fun names. I’ve even heard other geology courses described in similar manners. For instance, I have heard Introduction to Geophysics called “Quakes for Flakes.” However, I do feel a little sad that geology is considered an “easy” science. There is no doubt that “Rocks for Jocks” is an easier class to take for your science credit than Chemistry 101, Physics 101, or Biology 101. I can verify this firsthand as someone who took Chemistry 101, Physics 101, Rocks for Jocks, and an introductory biology course.

As a quick aside, I actually didn’t take Biology 101- I took a different introductory biology course about dinosaurs because who wouldn’t want to take a class about dinosaurs??? It turned out the class was mostly about cladograms and evolution. On the first day of class, the professor said something along the lines of, “Welcome to the dinosaur class. This class is really about ancestral relations and evolution. I could just as easily teach what I need to teach you using clams or cows or squids. However, none of you would probably take a class about clams, so I’m going to use dinosaurs in all my examples.” The class turned out to be a little more difficult than I expected, but I enjoyed it anyway.

Here at MIT where I am a graduate student, geology is almost considered a humanities department (not really, but some engineers view it that way). The geology major is often considered “an easy major choice” for students who can’t quite cut it (at MIT, anyway) in physics or engineering. Sometimes, I even catch myself saying, “Oh, I’m at MIT… but I’m only in the EAPS (Earth and Planetary Science) department.”

However, I don’t really think that geology is an “easy” science. At least, not when you continue beyond “Rocks for Jocks” and pursue the full undergraduate major. My second, third, and fourth year geology classes were challenging. The geology department was small (relative to chemistry, physics, and biology), so perhaps my courses were slightly easier because the professors were able to give their students more attention. However, I remember some very tough mineralogy, petrology, and geochemistry exams. Also, because geology is a highly interdisciplinary field, in order to be prepared for graduate school I actually took several chemistry, physics, biology, and math courses as an undergrad. So I had to study those “tough” sciences in order to be prepared for my “easy” science of geology. 

Come to think of it, the “Rocks for Jocks” course actually does teach quite a bit of chemistry, physics, biology, and even a little math. At many colleges, the class doesn’t turn out to be quite as easy as the jocks were hoping.  And you know what? Many people who take the course, even some of the jocks, end up majoring in geology. Probably because it’s fun to go hiking and look at rocks and play with minerals. Really, really fun, even if there’s a little chemistry and math and such thrown in. So perhaps “Rocks for Jocks” serves as good recruitment for the sciences, or at least for geology.