During the field trip you will keep a journal. This journal should include:
Most of the students did NOT mention the stop in the Dalles, the guy with the UN leaflets, or K being sick. Most of the students wrote a bried sentence saying that Wright's point is an example of inverted topography. Most of the students did NOT get an A on their journals.
What are we looking for?
1) Content - the instructor's are giving you a lot of
geological and biological information in the field. Some of it should
be written down. Also, other things happen during the field trip
- conversations, accidents, budding romances, interesting encounters with
cows, etc. We expect to read about it.
2) Personal voice. We want to hear your "voice"
in your work. You have a personality and your work should reflect
that. You should be telling us what you THINK about things on the
trip. There should be reflection going on.
3) Creativity. We are going to be reading a fair
number of reports of the SAME trip. Please make some effort to make
your report interesting. Reading "stop #1 is at Wright's Point, an
intracanyon lava flow with cross-bedding" and nothing else, over and over,
is incredibly boring.
Event: stopping at a store en route to pick up supplies
N: K-Mart is a scary place, especially in The Dalles. The customers seemed to be largely corpses, reanimated automatons, backlash from our Van Summoning. We were on a quest to correct an error most foul. Melinda has planned a musical experience to end all musical experiences, on tape. We were to spend our travels serenaded by groups as well-regarded as Meatloaf and Boston. This I didn't mind, since I have a fairly wide-randing musical taste (although by the nth time Meatloaf grew a little tiresome). We had plopped the tape into the deck, but Meatloaf was served under a thick layer of Jell-O. The tape player was in serious need of cleaning. Thus, with the added consideration of <J1> forgetting a sleeping bag, we had a good excuse to pull Lynn into a quick stop at K-Mart(tm). We got a firm admonition to not take too long from Lynn, those of us in need of "necessities" headed into the K-Mart. <J1> hunted for her sleeping bag. T hunted for reading material. Several others hunted down various forms of junk food. Melinda and I (resident GeekBoy(tm)) hunted the aisles for a tape head cleaner. A kind and courteous K-Employee pointed us in the right direction, and with a hasty retreat through the packs of K-Corpses, repaired the ailing tape deck.
K: When I woke up the rain has stopped and we are near the Dalles. Tape player gets fixed and we get our last real food for a few days. Fall asleep again.
T: We stop briefly in the Dalles. <J1> forgot her sleeping bag, Melinda and Daina want a tape cleaner so they can blast us with Meatloaf, I want some reading material. Usually, I never go anywhere without a book. This time I did. I think I was planning on doing math homework in the car, but there were too many distractions. Lynn says that no one gets to go into Kmart except for the people who absolutely need to. I think dying of boredom qualifies. That and the fact that if I don't find a way to tune <J2> out at least some of the time, I'll go bloody bonkers.
Event: Stop at Wright's Point
N: Our first stop, Wright's Point, was a scenic roadcut perched on the side of a cliff. At one point, some 2 million years ago, a stream or river ran through the area, depositing sediment in layers that resulted in a stunning example of crossbedding. We documented people standing and looking around, <J2>, E and K enthsuastically getting rock and soil samples, Lynn describing the various plants that eked out their existences... Then things got weird. We had piled into the vans again, and were preparing to move on to the next spot. We had radio contact, we were fed and watered, no one had gotten hit while crossing the road. A pickup pulled off the road in front of us and the driver, a friendly-looking farmer sort, got out and ambled back to Daina's window. He started out the conversation smoothly, asking where we were from, what we were doing, where we were staying, how we liked it, oh, did we know that the United Nations was going to try to take over the country? Yep, they're gonna take all that land away from us and (horror of horrors) turn it into parkland or something. Melinda and Daina responded tactfully and gracefully and got us out of there before he started to tell us about where the possums go to commit suicide.
K: We stop at Wright's Point to collect some samples. Around 2 million years ago lava flowed down a river channel in an intra-canyon flow. Since then all the surrounding rock has eroded away and left this great example of inverted topography. In the river sediments below the basalt, graded beds are abundant and very textbook looking. The top cap of basalt is about 10 meters thick and has baked the rocks directly under it. Some plants include short and tall sage and locoweed. This native plant is harmful to cows but does anyone know what effect is has on people? I find an ant mound and dig a bit to find lots of them. They get really pissed and start to pour out of the hole. I decide to leave them alone as they were the mean red ants. Back in the van and no sooner does farmer boy John block us in and offers us some crazy UN pamphlets. His bumper sticker reads "Get us out of the UN...bring our troops home." Big laugh except <J3> who really wanted to read what he had.
T: Our first official stop of the day is at Wright's Point. About two million years ago, a good-sized stream ran through the area. We can see the crossbedding in the wall of the deposit. Some of the bedding is fine, and some is more coarse. Then the fault erupted and lava flowed into the stream channel and filled it in, forming an inta-canyon flow. The lava is more resistant to erosion and prevented the stream deposits from erosion. This leaves and example of inverted topography. Melinda mentions that last year biology people went into the grass and picked up ticks. I'm glad that I'm not a biology person. Lynn talks a little bit about the sage and how it outcompeted the native rye grass, once the white man came in and brought their cattle in, which changed the environmental balance. She also mentions other native plants that we're looking at such as Indian Paintbrush and Locoweed. At least once a day for the rest of the trip, I will hear N speculating on whether or not Locoweed has any effects on human beings. As we're getting set to drive away, a very nice looking middle-aged cowboy pulls off the road in front of us. He has a lap dog in his truck, which is mildly weird. It's about to get weirder. He wants to warn us that the UN is taking over America. He wants to give us literature explaining the evils of the UN. He's got a bumper sticker that says "Get U.S. out of the UN". Melinda and Daina are polite but noncommital. Obviously freaked out. For the rest of the day, everything is the fault of the UN.
Event: Poor K got food poisoning on a day that we were on dirt roads.
N: For my part, Saturday was spent almost exclusively following the Plant Ecology group around, making sure they were sufficiently documented. Well, that and making sure that K didn't throw up on me. I didn't think that the yogurt at breakfast was supposed to be green; that's why I avoided it (I have a standard here and there). By the time I had realized that maybe he should have the bench seat and be allowed to stretch out in the van, he was only about an hour away from spraying his innards across the grass of Borax Lake... [skip a long segment about Borak Lake] ...We returned to the van and learned that K had finally done the Technicolor yawn and was almost ambulatory, which gave us happiness.
K: After being in the car for about half an hour I started to get a stomachache. I don't really think much of it since it is so early and I'm not used to the wee morning hours. I fall asleep resting my forehead on the seat in front of me. In Frenchglen, I feel pretty crappy. After sitting at the picnic table for a while, I feel a little better. I walk down to the store and look around. Then I went back to the vans. After sitting in them, I decided to get some more fresh air. It didn' help and I felt like I could feel the puke churning, getting ready to head north. When the vans started to roll again I felt the worst yet. Daina had given me a baggie in case I had to hurl. I tried not to think about it and went to sleep. I woke at the alluvial fan stop and eventually managed to get out to the rocks. Though I was there I wasn't very conscious of what was being said and can't remember much about it, other than it was the remnants of Steens Mountain. People started to realize how crappy I felt and were telling me to just puke and I would feel better. I know they were right but throwing up is one of the most unpleasurable things I can think of. I considered doing it but decided not to unless I absolutely had to. Back in the van and more sleep to try and not think of being sick. I woke up and looked outside and saw a bathhouse. I got up and was sitting there realizing how bad I felt. The last think I felt like doing was getting out to walk around. Melinda acknowledged me and saw how I felt she had no objection to me staying there so I did. I stretched out all the way and fell asleep. When people got back I woke permanently. I think this is when N got in the back and let me stay lying down. I really appreciated that a lot. The bumpy as hell dirt road kept me from falling back to sleep but I wasn't really awake either. When we got to Borax Lake, I decided that it would be a total waste if I stayed in the van the whole time and would regret it at a later date if I slept the whole time. So I slowly got out of the van and started to walk around. Boom, all of a sudden I had to puke really badly. I walked wouth of the vans about forty yards and kneeled down. For a second I thought it had gone away, but then I started to heave. Just a little came up the first time and it sort of tasted like orange juice. Pretty soon, my mouth filled up with liquid and it bubbled out of my nose as well. This was for all the marbles as several good ounces of liquid exploded out of my mouth. Afterwards I had the grossest, sour taste in my mouth and started spitting like crazy. At that point I realized that puke was running from my nasal cavity back into my mouth. I had to hawk a couple of nasty loogies to get that taste out of there. I started to walk to the lake and felt the urge again so I quickly got off the path and let out one last stomachful of OJ like stuff. After that I felt a hundred times better.
T: Did I mention that K is sick today? Poor guy.
We stop the vans, and while most of the class heads toward the lake, he
heads in the other direction. Melinda and I are hanging back because
we have to pee. K goes behind some bushes; when we call to ask him
if he's ok, he calls back "I'm puking, thanks." Most cheerful puker
I've ever seen. I have to fight a serious tempation to take the digicam
and go film him throwing up.