Trails? We don't need no stinkin' trails!

After several days of no post, I realize that there is a lot to recap. In defense of my tardiness, let me say that we've been in the field from 9:00 to around 7:00 everyday, cooking and eating dinner after that, and then working on our maps and cross-sections until 12:30 each night. Suffice it to say that blog updates kinda fell to the wayside. In review however, the past few days have been prime examples of "Get it. Work it. Own it." I can tell you all about the various theories surrounding formation of glacial mega grooves. Or if the Glen Coul thrust fault is what gets your blood pumping, I'll let you in on the fabulous secret on the double thrust unconformity. Yeah....I don't think many people care, but I do so that's all that really matters. But I guess the best way to describe what the past few days have been like is to tell you about my discovery of the three velocities of geologic mapping and their impact on my life. 


Velocity 1) Antelope Pace- The antelope pace is the speed to which we all aspire. Adept antelopes such as Dr. Harris and Krista bound from boulder to boulder and scurry up vertical cliffs without even breaking a sweat. To be an antelope is to have nerves, muscles, and joints of steel. You believe that trails are merely suggestions rather than rules (hence the title of the post.)


Velocity 2) Mountain Goat Pace- The mountain goat pace remains the most common form of Highland transport. It entails the general confidence of moving rapidly up and down slopes with only minor difficulty caused by the uneven clumps of deer grass or the occasional peat bog. Mountain goats thrive on environments where rock outcrops dominate the landscape. On a good day, I'm a mountain goat.


Velocity 3) "I'll get there when I damn well please" Pace- No explanation needed.


I've recently had more than just a fleeting relationship with Velocity 3 recently, especially on the day of the glacial hike with dear old Donald. What we thought would be a brief day hike turned into a five mile trek up and down the sixty degree slopes of a mountain during gale force winds that plastered us with rain in the frigid weather. As I continually stopped to enjoy the view/stabilize my heart rate, my good will towards our esteemed regional geologist began to falter. The exploration of the glacial grooves turned out to be really interesting, but I was feeing pretty bitter by that point, which have clouded my capacity for learning a bit. The next two days were jam packed with hikes, hikes, a few more hikes, and trips to the store for more Scottish beer. If you're wondering why I haven't actually posted any pictures yet, it's mostly because I look super rough in every picture we've taken. Allow me to paint a mental image for you: my gross looking hair piled on top of my head with mud splattered from ankle to shoulder as the uneven weight of my backpack and rock hammer tend to pull all my clothes lopsidely to the right of my body in highly attractive fashion. I am the very image of grace and beauty. Once I get to Edinburgh tomorrow night, I'll supply you with all the gorgeous pictures of the rugged county side.


On trips like this, I know that the positives always outweigh the negatives, but there is one negative that is almost a dominating force in day to day life here in northeast Scotland. I present to you, the highland midge. I'm now self conscious about wearing shorts or short sleeve shirts because of the devastation these creatures have wreaked all over my body. Basically, it looks like I have leprosy. These tiny little buggers wait for in swarms of millions of little bodies waiting to attack you like a herd of the most wretched kind of mosquitos you can possibly imagine. It's a fairly common site to see the locals don fine mesh nets over their heads to prevent the little demons from going after the neck and ears. Kinda wish they had clued me in on that little tip. The combination of midge bites and windburn along the tops of my ears has given them a whole new personality (in a highly unpleasant way.) They now have a vaguely Prince Charles appearance due to the accompanying inflammation. Charming.


Enough of the negatives. Back to to the positives. In an attempt to follow the advice of a friend who is actually a native of Scotland, I've made a deliberate effort to interact with the locals and the fellow guests at the Inchnadamph Lodge beyond the normal parameters of my comfort zone. I almost don't even have to ask any questions. I learn more about them from their inquiries about life in the US than with any interview I could devise. Thus far I've learned that many people think scientists face harsh religious persecution (hence their confusion at geologists from a Methodist school), they think it's crazy that I've never driven a standard before, and that conservative Americans allegedly don't travel abroad. I'm not sure about the validity of that last claim, but the conversation behind it certainly was an interesting one.


Now it's fairly late, and I have a five hour trip to Edinburgh ahead of me in the morning so I bid you adieu. If you see any midges, kill the little demons.