Wooster Geologists

Guest bloggers: Andrew Wayrynen and Jeff Gunderson

We take our berry picking very seriously

Oh so you thought you got rid of Team Alaska, didn’t you? Yeah well, just as there are as many cedar sites in Juneau as there are cruise ship tourists, we’re back with part 2. Now where were we?

After our Kayak at McBride Glacier amongst the massive icebergs in the fjord, we— Jesse Wiles, Dr. Wiles, Jeff Gunderson, Andrew Wayrynen, and Nick Weisenberg— decided to take to the ice by foot. As such, the following day we made the short kayak to the outwash plain at the terminus of Riggs Glacier, a massively cold testament to what the coastal Alaskan climate can do. While on the glacier, it was impossible not to feel humbled and awe-struck by its enormity. It was a friendly and welcome reminder as to why the science truly matters.

A Jeff for scale at Riggs Glacier

Exploring Riggs glacier was a wonderful experience, but the time soon came for another dendroclimatological expedition. Our goal was to search for wood in the recently vacated valley where once Riggs and McBride Glaciers connected. To our pleasure there was hardly any alders, which made the mission less trying, yet there was no shortage of braided streams that provided ample opportunities for a boot full of freezing glacier water. Unfortunately, there was only one log to be found and sampled in the entire valley. As sure as the bugs did bite, we brought it home.

Dr. Wiles coring the lone log in the valley

The following day, an all-too-familiar gray haze took command of the skies that dripped upon us a rather watery substance called rain. As the bold, rugged mountain-worn scientists slated to bridge that 2000-year gap, we took the day off. We explored our camp cove and admired huge beached icebergs.

Andrew investigates the dead ice 

 That day at our camp in Muir Inlet would prove to be our last, as Todd, the wise NPS boat captain, arrived in late morning of the following day with Dan Lawson to take us to Tlingit Point. However, we made a historically significant stop along the way. Before navigating Glacier Bay’s icy waters, Todd worked in Yosemite Valley in California, inadvertently following John Muir’s footsteps in his late 19th century search for glaciers. Much to Andrew’s excitement, he guided us to the site of John Muir’s cabin, which was built in 1879 by Muir and friends. Having been so busy as geologists, our crew relished in the opportunity to have a stab at archaeology.

 John Muir’s cabin in the late 19th century where the terminus of Muir Glacier once was (left) and the same cabin today (right)

Now camped at Tlingit Point, we had our sights on the Mountain Hemlock situated atop the hills above us. The climb up was incredible in practically every sense of the word. While ascending, the chances of peering out to the bay and soaking in the gorgeous vistas were about the same as falling into patch of delicious wild strawberries. Near the top, the alders thinned and the brush only came up to ankle-height, but alas the bugs persisted, hungrier than ever. Once amid the old growth, we cored the mighty hemlocks and safely tucked away the obtained samples.

Andrew tries his hand at coring for the first time

Mountain goats became new friends to the Wooster Geology Department

 Things we learned: Giant Hogweed makes your skin more susceptible to UV rays and can cause third degree sunburns (no, those puss bubbles on your hand aren’t spider bites, Jeff). It doesn’t really rain in Alaska- spare your wallet and don’t buy rain gear if you go. Apparently, Alaskan mosquitoes are wildly undernourished. Dendrochronology/Dendroclimatology is amazing. Our favorite rock is becoming a tree.

The view from the top of Tlingit Point marked the end of an awesome field season

Guest bloggers: Andrew Wayrynen and Jeff Gunderson

First attempt at collecting wood in Muir Inlet with Dan Lawson 

Two College of Wooster geologists in the Alaskan wilderness is always a recipe for success. Thanks to Dr. Wiles and the geo gang, we took our interests in glaciology and dendroclimatology to Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve in Southern Alaska, where scrambling up glaciers, maneuvering slippery alders, and finally sampling old growth trees became daily routine. As the first time in Alaska for Andrew and the second for Jeff, the beauty of the historic place was stunning and allowed scientific inquiry to flourish in its wake. Jeff’s tall task stood as “bridging the gap” of Glacier Bay’s glacial and climate history and Andrew, an English major by night, explored the location’s history in accordance with the writing of esteemed preservationist John Muir.

We were met by none other than Nick Wiesenberg at the Juneau airport, where we promptly sorted out food supplies and last minute gear checklists. After a few quick stops around town and a quiet night in the state’s capitol we were set to take off for Glacier Bay and to enter the field. We spent the night in a park-designated campsite and the next day we, as a trio, embarked a national park service boat to scoop up Dr. Wiles and his bright-eyed photographer Jesse who were already at Marble Mountain. Thereafter, we voyaged up-Bay to Muir Inlet where we set up camp between the Eastern-Arm’s McBride and Riggs Glaciers.

Carrying supplies in the sand dunes to cross the river and find the log

The older generation showing us how it’s done

The following day, the five of us kayaked to Wolf Lake in hopes of finding logs that would bridge the 2000-year old gap in the Glacier Bay tree-ring chronology. This totaled to a 14-mile round trip venture, where 6 miles were by foot and 8 were by kayak. The trek followed a decent sized creek, through marshy, bug-infested alders up a ridge to a drainage divide. From the top, a beautiful lake was visible whose crystal waters contained the remnants of an icy past. Down the other side of the divide was our goal- the roaring braided streams and the encasing alluvial fans. The mosquitoes brandished whatever the hell it is that they so eagerly stab us with and we set forth, mesh bug nets swaying in the wind, serving as a sort of lifeline. At last in the outwash plain, we spread out and surveyed the area for the missing pieces to our chronological puzzle. Our efforts proved fruitful, for there was more wood than we could conceivably carry.

A teachable moment for us in the field

We’re considering making a show called Alaskan Bushwhackers

This first day of fieldwork truly set the tone for the remainder of the project. Sunny skies would subsequently outweigh threatening thunderous clouds, and complacency would never overcome hard work. The following afternoon the crew seized the opportunity to explore McBride Glacier by sea kayak, both resting tired legs and experiencing the immensity of one of the only remaining tidewater glaciers left in the Bay. We found it incredibly rewarding and inspiring to be so close to the very living beings that we have, and indeed will continue to, spend so much time studying. That afternoon, ice appeared the most brilliant shade of blue. Later that night, rice and beans never tasted so good.

Glaciers make us smile… stay posted for part 2