fred wobus . com

Appalachian mountains

Northern Appalachian mountains in Pennsylvania (Google Earth placemark )

Schoolroom memories

It was always those heavy multi-coloured pieces of felt that where supposed to teach us how mountains were formed. On more than one occasion my geography teacher would grab both ends of those layers of felt and push them inwards causing it to flex and bend. That was how close I got to geology at school and it all came back to me while reading a passage in the following book.

 

North America and the 1906 quake

Rock formations

“A Crack in the Edge of the World” is fascinating read by Simon Winchester and it talks much about the geology of America in general and the devastation of San Francisco in the 1906 earthquake in particular. The narrative on the geological basics of North America is a eulogy to the early explorers and the breathtaking natural monuments they found as well as providing a captivating insights into plate tectonics and other aspects of the often ignored and fairly recent science of geology. Winchester has the rare talent to research little-known facts and put them into elegant prose one never tires to read.

“There is so much time in geology”

In one of his stories he takes the reader back to 1969 when the grey-bearded world of hammer, lens and acid bottle was finally coming round to the notion of plate tectonics. During a scientific conference on the subject “[...] the full import of the plate tectonic revolution burst on the participants like a dam failure.” Notably it was Eldridge Moores who had a “blinding flash of insight” while musing over the presentations of his colleagues. It was a realization that would make him famous.

Moores grasped that certain rocks which today form the tops of mountains are the remnants of ocean floors. In turn he deduced that the great mountain chains of the West are …

“[...] the result, time and time again, of neighbouring plates bumping into each other. [...] The plates bang into each other, and, where they do so, large amounts of material are dislodged and stay put, being heated and compressed by the enormous forces of the collision. Then the collision abates [...] and the foreign material that is left behind [...] is already or becomes in time a mountain chain. [...] Most of these bodies or sequences trend north and south in great elongated ranges of mountain peaks [...] that etch the land below when you are flying across America toward the Pacific Ocean.”

The last phrase of this excerpt brought an aerial photo back to mind which I had taken on a chilly snow-dusted March morning on a flight from Newark to St. Louis. The plane crossed Pennsylvania and the uniform undulations of the Appalachian mountains were spread out below the plane like a page from a geography school book. There were the bulging felt layers of the class room in all their timeless geological glory.

(more…)

Krems

A reconnaissance mission is the examination of a territory; a preparatory expedition. The word has a military ring to it, which in turns suggests that it should be meticulously planned and scrupulously executed. Failing that one can always just head out into unknown terrain on a whim.

When blessed with another national holiday during a spell of fine autumn weather I put my finger to the map and decided to take a look at the city of Krems, some 80 km from Vienna along the river Danube.

Had I done more research, I would have taken a detailed map, circled the main sights and arranged them into a tour that minimises walking distance and maximises Lonely Planet brownie points. That would make sense for far-flung places that you may never get to again in your lifetime. I would for example have delved into some background reading on the new King of Tonga and the legacy of his recently deceased predecessor Taufa’ahau Tupou IV, had I left for that island kingdom, which is possibly as far as I can go round the globe without falling off the edge.

My tour of nearby Krems, however, carried no such intellectual ballast or prejudice nor was I under any kind of pressure that usually makes you gorge on as many of the sites as possible in case you get hit by a bus tomorrow or the place gets bought up and converted into a shopping mall by a large multinational until your next visit.

The wine city

Steiner Tor

Krems seemed a sleepy little town to me – on All Saints’ Day it was completely deserted. The local populace wasn’t going to be the criteria by which this place could be judged – there simply weren’t any people.

Vineyards

I turned my attention to the signs and billboards and scoured them for bits of information that could help me build up some sort of bigger picture by which I could remember this sleepy town which was otherwise so devoid of people. The pattern that soon emerged heavily emphasized wine. Wine is a common theme in this part of Austria; in fact it is hard to be out and about in this part of the country out of sight of a vineyard. In Krems, however, the importance of the divine grape juice seemed to have reached another level. A thousand years of wine making heritage had left their marks in the city that houses the “Wine academy Krems”, the largest wine school in continental Europe (superlative quoted from their website). There were wine bars, restaurants, cellars, schools, on every street corner with fairs, seminars, exhibitions and tastings advertised in close succession. Although very few cafes were open for coffee and cake, there were any number of bars where I could sampled the local tipple, had I not been driving.

From the top of the vineyards that line the banks of the river Danube one is afforded a sweeping view that once lured the Celts and Romans to this area. As it turned out, the view was also appreciated by men of the cloth.

The abbey

Imperial wing

Right across the Danube I spied a kind of castle on a mountain top and decided to take a closer look. A bridge across the river was easily found and I headed in the general direction. On the way I passed large signs directing me to an abbey and there were viewing platforms along the road large enough to accommodate multiple coach loads of tourists. I couldn’t help feeling appalled at how the presence of something so obviously famous had slipped my attention so far.

I had reached the Benedictine Abbey of Göttweig as the signs directed me to an over-sized, yet empty car park. Again I was presented with a sleepy, beautiful and unostentatious place that I knew nothing about – what a wonderful place to stroll around, take in the sights and make mental notes.

Gottweig Abbey

The centre piece of the monastery is the lavish baroque church which makes a frivolous and pleasant change from the battleship-like parapets of the cliff-side walls. In fact, the initial impression is one of a castle until one notices the absence of embrasures and crenellations.

The whole magnificence becomes apparent on a short stroll around the courtyard, which give the visitor an idea of the size of the whole complex.

As it was getting late, only some parts of the museum were still open. The entire complex houses lots of treasures that I will have to come back to again to appreciate.

Making the most of the first impression was one of my goals of this reconnaissance mission. I wanted to stake out unknown territory and use any intelligence gained to prepare for a future return. So, no points were lost for passing through so quickly….

(more…)