Dozing polar bear, Indianapolis Zoo

Monday, July 30, 2007

Glacial Recession -- Part II

Now that I’ve offered an ominous opener, let me throw out this confusing fact: The glaciers in northwest Montana began to recede in the 1850’s. I know that all of you – astute observers of human history that you are -- will recognize that decade as preceding significant human-generated carbon emissions.

So what gives? This was the question the instructor, Jeff, posed during his introductory slide show. Is the recession of the park’s glaciers caused by humans or is it merely the result of a naturally occurring warming period?

It’s both, of course; the question poses a false dichotomy. Geologic history is peppered with alternating periods of glacial advance and retreat, and the earth had already entered a period of glacial retreat when we started energetically pumping carbon into the atmosphere. So while human activities may not have caused the glaciers to begin melting initially, it’s a safe bet that those activities have dramatically increased the rate, in recent times, at which the glaciers are melting.

Take a look at the picture below.



Where Jeff is standing marks the point to which the glacier extended just last year, and it will recede even further yet this year. And this is on the side of the glacier and not the “toe” – in laymen’s terms, the tip – of the glacier, where melting occurs most rapidly.

It’s also worth noting that this is the kind of thing you hear the wishful thinkers say all the time: “But the glaciers started melting long before the petroleum era, so it can’t be global warming! We’re just in a naturally occurring warming period!” The foundational facts are correct, to be sure -- the glaciers did begin to recede awhile ago, and we are in a natural warming period (or, as I understand it, the end of a much cooler period, which may not be exactly the same thing.) It’s the conclusion they reach that’s faulty. The era of human-generated carbon is coinciding with that period and elevating the planet’s temperature to the point of grim consequences.



Part III: Wherein I attempt to avoid becoming a permanent part of the glacier, as glacial recession, though occurring rapidly, will not happen quickly enough to free me from a crevasse should I be so unlucky as to fall into one.

Sunday, July 29, 2007

Glacial Recession, Part I



This is Upper Grinnell Lake in Glacier National Park.

As late as 1969, there was no Upper Grinnell Lake. That's because what is now the lake used to be part of the Grinnell Glacier.

The lake gets bigger every year.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Five days

I've been home five days this month. Tomorrow will be six, and that's all for July.

We're leaving tomorrow for Montana; the boys will drop me off at Glacier for my three-day climate change/glacial recession workshop and then head to the house.

I'm tired. I'm still trying to figure out where this month went.

Wheee.

Friday, July 20, 2007

Extended

My bidness trip has been extended until Tuesday, my client having decided they want me here longer for a critical meeting. I've been getting only the briefest interludes of bloggable time, and I'm eager to catch up with everyone.

The extension of my trip will mean I have only 24 hours at home before I leave for this seminar in Glacier National Park next week. I can't wait for this one.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Out of Africa

I awoke the other morning with this scene from Out of Africa on my mind. I searched for it on youtube, and voila. I grabbed the book on the way out the door to re-read on the plane.

Thursday, July 12, 2007

A Question

Who should I be reading?

I enjoy surfing around, looking for new blogs here and there. That's a lot of fun.

But knowing what you know about me, is there anyone you currently read that I might also enjoy?

Leave links in the comments.

There's no other way to show you how to survive a fall through the ice into a freezing lake, so I'll have to jump in here myself

Friend and occasional commenter Wasteland Fan dropped me a link to a youtube of Man vs. Wild yesterday, and my productivity immediately plummeted and has not yet recovered. I'm not really a TV watcher, so I've completely missed this until now.

Better go. It's on in nine minutes.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Hear ye, hear ye

Let it be known that I have purged my bank account of that troublesome substance called money, and in exchange have received two things: 1) a set of plane tickets to Indianapolis for next week, which trip I must make for work, and 2) a newly minted Nikon D2oo camera body.

It's a whole new world. Goodbye Fujichrome Velvia, hello 10.2 megapixels.

Fun with garden furniture

I absolutely love this.

A lawn chair, for crying out loud. Outstanding.

Monday, July 09, 2007

Fire

One of the things that distresses me in Montana is the sense you get, starting about July, that the whole damn place is about to go up in flames. Drought conditions have afflicted the American West for more than a decade, and it's spreading. Now up to a third of the entire U.S. is suffering from drought.

I've been spending time in Montana for seven or eight years now, and I have no recollection of summer conditions that weren't incredibly dry. It's remarkable if you're not used to it. It's as if you can feel the dryness sapping the moisture from your body. There's almost a friction to the air.

In these conditions, the slightest spark can destroy thousands of acres.

I'm eyeing the weather report tonight, because scattered thunderstorms are forecast for Thursday. It seems this is how so many fires are sparked in that area -- by thunderstorms that don't offer enough wetness to discourage fire, but just enough lightning to start one.

Fires are already burning all over the West, including Oregon, Washington and Montana.

I spent some time in Glacier in 2003 when the park was besieged by fire, and it made an stark impression on me. Last week I walked through some of the forest that had burned during that summer, and observed the succession -- beautiful wildflowers against black, charred tree trunks.

Time. As I strolled through the burn I marveled: it's only time that's the difference between a leisurely walk and standing in the middle of an inferno.