Geology

Geology
The 366 daily episodes in 2014 were chronological snapshots of earth history, beginning with the Precambrian in January and on to the Cenozoic in December. You can find them all in the index in the right sidebar. In 2015, the daily episodes for each month were assembled into monthly packages (link in index at right), and a few new episodes were posted from 2015-18. You may be interested in a continuation of this blog on Substack at this location. Thanks for your interest!

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

September 9. Recovery from extinction




The extinction at the end of the Permian decimated marine invertebrates, with 90 to 95% of all species disappearing. The ammonites, the shelled cephalopods related to octopuses and squids and the modern chambered nautilus, were almost wiped out completely, but the few survivors – perhaps just a single lineage – adapted and increased in diversity almost explosively during the Triassic, but underwent another decline late in the period.  

Encrinus, Triassic crinoid from Germany. Photo by Ghedoghedo under GFDL. 
Rocks from the first few million years of the Triassic, right after the extinction, contain few marine invertebrate fossils, as you might expect. Some of the groups that had been prominent during the Paleozoic, including brachiopods and crinoids, never really rebounded from the extinction, although both survive to this day in small numbers and without much biodiversity.

Corals and clams seem to have adapted pretty well to the new conditions and their recovery from the extinction was accomplished within about 10 million years or so – but during the early Triassic, there may have been strong variations in the carbon cycle, affecting carbon dioxide in the atmosphere as well as in sea water, and that would have had a big impact on things like corals and clams that secrete calcium carbonate. Link (carbon cycle) Despite this, a new important branch of corals called the scleractinians evolved during the Triassic. They are also called stony corals and they represent the modern reef-building corals we have today. They probably evolved from relatives of the rugose corals that lived in the sea from Ordovician to Permian time, but rugose corals didn’t survive the end Permian extinction.

There are no known coal beds from the early Triassic, so much so that it’s called the global coal gap. Probably the best theory to explain this is the idea that land plants in enough abundance to make coal were severely affected by the Permian extinction, and they did not really recover for at least 6 and more like 20 million years – at least that’s how long it took for coal to appear in the rock record again in much volume. They would have had to evolve adaptations to the new conditions, and that takes time – probably more time for relatively long-lived things like trees than for short-lived ammonites. A further explanation for why it took so long for trees to recover is the suggestion that temperatures were “lethally hot” during the early Triassic, at least in tropical zones, maybe even too hot for trees to survive. The high temperatures may have extended to tropical sea water, with one report suggesting surface sea temperatures of 40°C, 15 degrees higher than today. That could certainly have affected sea life.  I have links below to several technical papers that address these issues if you are interested in more detail.
—Richard I. Gibson

Links:
Coal Gap 

Lethally hot temperatures (Sun et al. 2012) 

Early Triassic ocean life (Bottjer 2012)

Encrinus, Triassic crinoid from Germany. Photo by Ghedoghedo under GFDL. 

Monday, September 8, 2014

September 8. Pangaea begins to break up




The other day, I said that in the Triassic, Pangaea was pretty much still intact as a single huge continent, with the big embayment on the east side, the Tethys Ocean. But I’ve also said there were hints of the great breakup that was about to begin.  

As the Cimmerian blocks began to rift away from the northeastern coast of Pangaea, the southern portion of the supercontinent, the old Gondwana, was probably rotating a bit, so that where Africa and Europe were attached, they began to pull apart at least to some extent, but it’s not really completely clear exactly what was going on there during the Triassic. Further north and west, through the complex mountain ranges that formed during the Caledonian, Alleghenian, and Appalachian Orogenies, over many millions of years, the compression due to collision was giving way to extension.



Triassic Globe by Ron Blakey, NAU Geology, under Creative Commons license (notes by Gibson)


Even as early as the late Permian, a rift, a pull-apart, had begun to form between what is now northeastern Greenland and northwestern Norway. That narrow strait might have allowed sea water to invade the basins of northern Germany and the Netherlands, where the Permian Zechstein salt formed. By the middle of the Triassic, the rifting seems to have extended a long way into the combined North America-European continent.

Tethys reconstruction globe from Stampfli & Borel 2002
How do we know this? There are extensive deposits of terrestrial sediments scattered through the region – mostly offshore today – from southern Greenland to west of Ireland and France and Iberia, and on the North America side, from east of Newfoundland around the margin to south of Nova Scotia – which was still attached to Africa, about where Morocco is today. This was not a complete seaway, but the rifting was making basins, similar perhaps to the basins that received the Old Red Sandstone back in the Devonian, after the first big mountains formed through this zone, the Caledonian Mountains. It was a complex array of zig-zagging rift basins, and I really think it’s fair to think of it like the East African Rift today – long, linear interconnected rift zones, in places with lakes, in places just lowlands receiving eroded debris off the adjacent highlands.

Let’s take a break for a minute and talk about rifts. When I say “rift,” I mean a major break in a continent, where two parts of the continent pull apart from each other. Ultimately, such a rift might become an ocean basin, with the two continental fragments bordering it on each side. This process is often driven by the generation of new oceanic crust at a mid-ocean ridge. Heat rising in convection currents from the deep mantle brings molten material to the surface – or at least near the surface – in a linear zone. As more and more such material rises, the previous material has to move out of the way – and the crust of the ocean spreads apart, away from the mid-ocean ridge. If that ridge started beneath a continent, the inexorable force of rising heat and magma will eventually break even thick continental crust. That’s what’s happening today in East Africa, and it’s what was beginning to happen during the Triassic where North America and Europe were attached. This is the birth of the modern Atlantic Ocean.

Rifting. (I have tried and failed to
determine the owner of this image;
if you are the copyright owner, please let me know.)
But during the early and middle Triassic, we didn’t have much in the way of open oceans yet. Probably just that narrow strait next to Greenland in the north, and possibly some ocean between North Africa and southern Europe. The rest was a diverse lowland, a sag, with linear mountains surrounding lake basins and continental river systems. Think of it like a big mass of cold caramel – soft enough to stretch some, but brittle enough to break eventually. As you pull the caramel apart, the middle will sag, and finally will break with a pretty sharp edge, assuming the consistency is just right. Since most of the rocks are under the Atlantic Ocean today, they are known only from remote sensing studies, including seismic data, and from wells drilled for oil and gas exploration. Not quite the same as having them exposed for geologists to take rock hammers to.

I think two big questions might be occurring to you at this point. First, what makes a rift start? And second, in this case, why did the rift run more or less along the zone where the original collision had created a huge mountain uplift that went from northern Greenland all the way to West Texas and probably beyond?

Oceanic rifts start where the linear edges of mantle convection currents rise toward the surface. The ultimate controls on the geometry, size, and position of convection currents are poorly understood – it’s the distribution of heat down in the mantle, and the complex response of the solid earth to that. And the solid earth is not uniform, so variety will be the name of the game. It’s also possible that some rifts begin because isolated mantle plumes, or hot spots like those at Yellowstone and Iceland, rise and weaken the crust, essentially encouraging the rift to radiate from that location. To break continental crust, much thicker and stronger than oceanic crust, probably depends on some special circumstances, such as a pre-existing state of stress, but it seems possible that a mantle plume might initiate such a continental break-up. This is still a controversial topic. Here's a 2014 paper on this idea, and see also this paper from 2014 for an opposing view.

As for the second question, why did the Atlantic Rift begin to form pretty much right along the zone where the continents had come together, one simple rationale is that such a zone, full of faults and inhomogeneities, would be the weak point in the system. The central cores of the continents – the cratons, which we outlined in January, and the word craton means “strong” – would have been much more resistant to breaking apart than the collision belt. You might argue that the collision zone made the crust even thicker, and with lots of igneous rocks and metamorphism, the suture zone, where the continents were welded together, ought to be the strongest part. Maybe it was. But it’s an observational fact that the break-up of Pangaea – at least between Europe and North America – followed the old collision, more or less. There are some interesting exceptions that we’ll talk about as the break-up proceeds over the next month or so.


* * *

Today’s birthday is Raphael Pumpelly, born September 8, 1837, in Oswego, New York. His geological work was wide-ranging, from Chinese coal fields to the copper country of Michigan, but he focused on economic geology of mineral deposits. He was the first to explore the Gobi Desert scientifically and he was also in charge of the Northern Transcontinental Survey of Dakota, Montana, and Washington Territories in the early 1880s. Pumpellyite, a low-grade metamorphic calcium-iron silicate mineral, was named for him.
—Richard I. Gibson

Tethys reconstruction globe from Stampfli & Borel 2002:    http://www-sst.unil.ch/research/plate_tecto/alp_tet_main.htm#Introduction 

Globe by Ron Blakey, NAU Geology, under Creative Commons license (notes by Gibson)


References: P.A. Ziegler, Evolution of the Arctic-North Atlantic and the Western Tethys, AAPG Memoir 43, 1988.

Mantle plumes cause rifts? 

Sunday, September 7, 2014

September 7. Moenkopi Formation





Monument Valley, Arizona

You have to admit, the Triassic rocks have some pretty cool names. Chugwater, Spearfish – and today we’re with the Moenkopi. The Moenkopi formation is widespread, generally somewhat west and southwest of the area covered by the Chugwater. It’s another red and multicolored group of rocks found in Arizona and New Mexico, Utah and Nevada, extending into parts of California and Colorado.  

It’s another suite of rocks laid down in broad mud flats or river flood plains, probably near the ocean margin. The rock contains ripple marks, mud cracks, raindrop impressions, and salt crystal casts, all of which indicate episodic wetting and drying in a tidal, near-shore, or riverbank setting. The water deepened to the north and northwest, with much of west-central and northwestern Utah and adjacent Nevada under water, but it was most likely a large, restricted bay rather than the open ocean. [Link to map]   There are some thin limestones within the formation that may represent incursions of the sea, and some lenticular sand bodies may represent river channels that cut through the mud flats, but most of the rock is shale, mudstone, and siltstone – pretty fine-grained sediment, originally. Like the Chugwater and the Spearfish, there are some gypsum beds in the Moenkopi. Clearly the depositional setting was similar across western and southwestern United States during early Triassic time, around 230 to 240 million years ago.

But just maybe, the Moenkopi setting was more favorable to life, at least in places. There are more fossils in the Moenkopi generally than in the Chugwater. Freshwater sharks and lungfish, good numbers of amphibians, some reptiles, and dicynodonts have been found in parts of the Moenkopi in northern Arizona. The Moenkopi is a good place to find reptile and amphibian tracks, too.

The Moenkopi erodes pretty easily, but it is preserved in places like Monument Valley, Arizona and Utah, where it is overlain by more resistant units. Most of the massive, vertical cliffs at Monument Valley are Permian rocks of the De Chelly Sandstone, but the tops of some of them are formed by a thin, resistant conglomerate that protects the non-resistant Moenkopi, a relatively thin slope just below the tops of the monuments.

The name Moenkopi comes from a Hopi town in Arizona, whose name means “place of flowing water.” 

* * *

Today’s geological birthday is Ferdinand Vandiveer Hayden, born September 7, 1829, in Westfield, Massachusetts. He is probably best known as the leader of the pioneering expeditions in the Rocky Mountains on behalf of the US Geological Survey, the first such explorations to include rigorous scientific documentation of the features they found. His crews were the first to document the area that became Yellowstone National Park, in 1871, a survey that helped convince congress to designate the first National Park in the world the following year, 1872.  And happy birthday to geologist Cheryl Hastings, too.
—Richard I. Gibson

Reference
University of Utah (excellent photos) 

Photo by Richard Gibson