Chasing Erratics on the Great (Kitsap) Peninsula.

Yesterday I decided to go on a little adventure and investigate some of the known glacial erratics that I had heard of on the Great (Kitsap) Peninsula, specifically in the Illahee Area.

A glacial erratic is a piece of rock that differs from the size and type of native rock in the area on which it rests. They are carried by glacial ice, often hundreds of miles. Erratics can be as small as pebbles or larger than a building.

Erratics are common on the Great (Kitsap) Peninsula because this area has been subject to half a dozen or more glaciations over the past 2 million years, with the last one ending 16,000 years ago. During these glaciations, a large tongue of ice known as the Puget Lobe advanced south to fill the Puget Lowland as far as Olympia. Over the Great Peninsula, it was probably well over 2,000 feet thick! More than enough to flow entirely over the top of Green Mountain and the rest of the Blue Hills.

The extent of the Puget Lobe of the Canadian ice sheet. Photo courtesy of Washington DNR. 

Since this glacier came from the north, originating in southern Canada, it was plucking pieces of rocks off the mountains there. The rock types found in the Canadian Rockies and coast ranges are much different than those found here on the Great and Olympic Peninsulas, mostly granites and metamorphic rocks. Our hard bedrock here is either igneous rock of the Blue Hills or sedimentary rock of the Blakeley Formation. So if you see a granitic rock somewhere on the Peninsula, whether it be your yard, a beach, or a park, you can assume it's a glacial erratic.

We likely have hundreds if not thousands of significant glacial erratics on our peninsula. Most of them are probably buried beneath the surface, trapped in the thick glacial formations. This point was illustrated to me quite nicely when I was watching a well being drilled near Central Valley, it encountered a glacial erratic along the way down, and suddenly shards and flakes of beautiful granite came flying out!

However, there are some sizable erratics on the surface that you can find. Yesterday I found 3, which are listed below.

• Ther is a glacial erratic in the Almira Drive parking lot for the Illahee Preserve in East Bremerton. This is a metamorphic rock showing smooth surfaces probably polished by glacial ice as it was transported. 

The Illahee Erratic, with a telephone pole for scale. 

• There is a large glacial erratic on the east side of Illahee road just as the road begins to drop towards the coast traveling northbound. This is one of the largest erratics I have seen on the Peninsula. And interestingly. It is not granitic or metamorphic, it appears to be a large chunk of basalt, which means it may have been plucked from the Olympic Mountains.

• On the corner of Trenton Ave and Fernwood Street, in a lucky person's front yard, is a huge glacial erratic of Blue-Gray volcanic rock suspiciously similar looking to the rocks found in the Blue Hills. Perhaps it was plucked off of Green Mountain or one of the surrounding summits? The best viewing for this erratic is in the pullout on the west side of Trenton Ave, please respect the landowner's property by not attempting to go into their yard. 

These are just a few of the many significant erratics that are scattered around the peninsula, as I stumble across more, if they are substantial enough, I will do a write up for them too. I know there are several in North Kitsap, so perhaps I'll go explore up there sometime in the near future. Summer is just around the corner, and geologic adventures are everywhere in Washington State and the Great Peninsula!

What is Geyser Gazing?

Almost every facet of nature has a "fan club" or community of hobbyists associated with it: bird watchers, mycophagists, rockhounds, storm chasers, etc. In Yellowstone National Park (and occasionally other places with hydrothermal activity), you can find the geyser gazers. 

The author and another gazer enjoying an eruption of Fan and Mortar Geysers in 2014. Photo by Mara Reed.

People who identify themselves as geyser gazers have a variety of reasons that they enjoy spending long periods watching and studying geysers. Some do it for research purposes, collecting and analyzing data on behavior, patterns, and connections with other features unofficially or officially. Others do it with a camera in hand, always striving to get a great shot of these geologic fireworks. Some are in it mostly for the social aspect, hanging out with good friends and enjoying camaraderie while waiting for nature's show. Adrenaline junkies are present, chasing the adrenaline-fueled pandemonium during eruptions of massive and rare geysers. And some people practice the hobby as a way to enjoy a unique aspect of nature. But, to put this all together in a simple sentence, being a geyser gazer boils down (pun intended) to being someone that has a specific passion for geysers. This manifests itself in the many ways listed above, and others.

One of the now-extinct geysers at Steamboat Springs, Nevada. Photo by Rocco Paperiello.

There are many reasons why geysers are probably one of the unique geologic features on the planet and deserve attention. There are fewer than 3,000 of these erupting springs on the globe. Naturally, their numbers wax and wane almost weekly, with new geysers forming and erupting and others ceasing activity and going dormant or extinct. But, in addition to their natural fluctuations, recent human developments also severely threaten geysers. Drilling for geothermal power and oil, the construction of hydroelectric dams, as well as other projects, have destroyed or severely impacted several hydrothermal fields around the world in the past several decades. Geysers over 30 feet high were present above highway 395 in Nevada, just outside of Reno, before the Steamboat Springs geothermal powerplant went online in 1986 and snuffed them out forever. Their rarity, combined with the current anthropogenic threat, is what makes geysers the endangered species of geology.

Castle Geyser erupts at Sunrise. 

It's impressive enough that, in specific instances, the laws of physics and geology operate in such a way to propel boiling water into the air, it's even more fascinating when you realize that many of these features have discernable patterns to them. Some geysers erupt so regularly that you can nearly set your watch by them. On the opposite end of the spectrum, some geysers seemingly operate on a geologic coin flip, erupting erratically and seemingly randomly. But the latter chaotic side also gives them an allure. Most geysers do not play on a predictable schedule; some erupt days, weeks, months, or even years apart. The high regularity of Old Faithful is the exception rather than the norm. Another level to this is that this irregularity my be in part because many geysers are connected with other hydrothermal features, creating fascinating interplay, like a pool draining during an eruption, or activity in one geyser heralding, or even triggering, the eruptions or activity of another.

Every 200-foot major eruption of Giant Geyser (The huge cone) is preceded by a Giant Hot Period (surrounding activity), but not every hot period ends in a Giant Eruption. Talk about suspense!

There are persons from many walks of life in the geyser gazing community; teens, college students, moms and dads, retirees, etc. Gazers often congregate while waiting for the next geyser eruption, whether it be large or small, common or rare. Those times are frequently filled with laughter and happiness, stories and data are exchanged, jokes are quipped, and theories debated while waiting for the eruption. But gazers will have their specific individual interests as well. Some go towards Geyser Hill near Old Faithful or watch a particular geyser or several related ones. Others are content to go off into the far corners of the basin to wait on more erratic and unpredictable, but relatively quiet, geysers. Still, others prefer specific geyser basins around the park.

Gazers wait for an eruption of Steamboat Geyser.

Standing or sitting for long periods watching a geyser or other hydrothermal feature tends to attract attention, especially when you have a radio and notebook in your hands. Of the plethora of questions you receive, many commonly revolve around the theme of: "Why are you doing this?" Which is essentially asking, "What is geyser gazing?"

Geyser gazing is the person screaming for the big geyser, the person in the hat and sunglasses quietly sitting with a notebook by a spring, It's the person pulled over off the side of the road staring at some steam in the distance. Or it's the person leading an energetic explanation to a group of visitors about why they need to wait five more minutes and get the show of their lives. Geyser gazing is a passion for geysers and any form that takes. If you look for it, you'll see it, and maybe you'll become a part of it.