Post by Rogue Trader on Aug 9, 2009 7:48:24 GMT -5
... I was walking along the beach, looking up at the stars and wondering what would the world be like in future years to come.
Little did I know that the beach I was walking on, would, in a few million years time, be over 200 feet above current sea level and all the shells I was kicking around would be collected by my great great great great great ancestors.
Hmmmm, If only pen knives had been invented by now and I had one to carve my name into that tree over there.
I went for a different type of walk/hike yesterday. Instead of hiking up into the hills and dales I decided that a visit to the beach was in order.
Armed with only my day sack (to carry my hammer, and 2 litre bottle of juice I set off in the car and headed to the beach. I could have gone to the nearest one which was only 25 miles away, but I wanted something that was going to be a bit challenging and had some cliffs and strenuous walking involved.
I head east then south until the sea could be seen way down below at the foot of the cliff face. I find a place to adandon/park the car, grab my bag and off I go.
I never even remembered to pack my camera. So I only had the camera on my cell phone
The sea looked so tranquil and calm from up here, 200+ feet below me. I couldn't hear the crashing of the waves on the beach and rocks below, nor the waves pounding against the cliff face.
I found a trail that meandered down the cliff side, through the undergrowth, and into some dense bushes. At some points the path (if it could be called a path) was almost a straight drop of a few feet before turning again into a track. I'm not even sure the local sheep used this trail that often.
After about 25 minutes I eventually reached the foot of the cliffs. Yes, thats right, it took 25 minutes to make my way down 200 feet of hillside and cliff face. Yes, I know it could have been done in a matter of seconds, but I do actually like waking up in the mornings Also, the track/trail took the most accessible route down and also took you of course somewhat.
I'd reached the bottom. Hmmm, decisions decisions. Do I head off south down the coast or north up the coast? There was no tossing of the coin, I just headed north, folloing the beach cliff face as I went. I was walking across pebbles, rocks, and a slate bed, which due to its nature rarely dries out so I wasn't sure whether the tide was going out or coming in.
I wandered along aimlessly. Looking down into the rock pools, occasionally bending to pick up a pebble for closer examination. Should I keep some for tumbling ot should I just drop them and let them live their lives down by the sea. Let them live another day
As the head land got closer and closer it was obvious that there had been a rock fall. When i'll never know, but just by looking at the rocks, and then up at the cliff face they had come from virtually all the way up. I could just imagine now, the silent crashing thunder as the rocks, mud and slate fell almost 200 feet to the beach below. Some of the sand stone rocks were huge, nearly as big as, if not bigger than a 1.5 ton long wheel base transit van. It wasn't a case of climbing over them, you had no choice but to walk round them.
Mmmm, silent crashing thunder?? Eh??? Well, do the falling rocks make a noise if there is no one there to hear them
I rounded the head land, I'd been walking for maybe an hour by this time, and I was still none the wiser as to whether the tide was coming in or out. I got up nearer to the cliff face. Occasionally taking a look up to see what if anything, could possible fall and ruin my day, and my future come to that.
I notice right up the top there, way above the slate and shingle layers, there were huge patches of sand stone. Wowzer, living (or dead) proof that the sea levels have dropped in the last few hundred million years.
I spotted some bullet shaped things sticking out of the shale/slate cliff face, and on closer inspection they were all in a layer of maybe two feet of slate.
I took my hammer out for the first time and started chipping away at the cliff face. Well it wasn't actually that hard, as the slate was crumbling, and all the while you could hear a soft gentle clitter clatter as a small stone or two tumbled down, from way above you, to the beach beside you.
I looked around and noticed that I was in a kind of cove/beach area, maybe 800/900 yards long, with a head land to each side of me, and a sheer cliff face of 200 feet up the way. Which would have been absolutley impossible to climb due to the type of rock. The waves were breaking on the rocks/pebbles about 40 yards away (behind) and there was a gentle slope down to the sea edge.
Just by looking at all the flotsom and jetsome from the sea you could see there was maybe a 20 yard stretch of beach line that never got covered by the water, and did not appear to have any recent rock fall on it.
I hammered/pecked away at the cliff face, slowly, and gently extracting several belemnites. However, I did notice that sometimes it didn't matter how careful you were trying to extract them they still broke into two or more pieces. I also noticed that as they dried out in the warm afternoon air they tended to crack also. Something I will have to remember next time (and yes, there will be a next time,) I visit.
All the time I was so engrossed in chipping out these belemnites I never even once considered or thought about the tide. It wasn't until I noticed that the noise was a bit louder, and the shore line had vanished considerably, that I noticed I was, not so much trapped, but cut off by the advancing tide.
I knew that at the most I'd only have to sit it out for maybe four to six hours at least until I would be able to walk back the way I had came. Easy, when you think about it. There was just so much to help pass the time, that I'd not be bored at all waiting for the tide to change and allow my return passage.
It was just one of those afternoons when from one find to another it was impossible to stop and think about what you were doing.
I just kept on searching, walking up and down the beach, looking at the cliff face, cracking open nodules and digging out fossil after fossil after fossil.
Needless to say my ignorance, never helped in anyway what so ever. I broke up more decent fossils than I managed to salvage.
I only wish I had taken my camera with me. Again, this is going to be a must have item next time I visit here. Oh, and a packed lunch, and something else to do, incase I get cut off again. Not that it bothered me none. I was new and very enthusiastic to this fossil hunting lark/game/hobby.
Anyway, after all that pre-amble, I'm pleased to present you with the items I did manage to save in a modicum of decency.
Firstly, this is the only picture I managed to get, and it was using the camera on my mobile phone.
It's just a picture of a fossil, I was unable to extract. To be honest, I didn't want to attempt to extract it, because it was so big and way way above my level of fossil hunting to get it out without causing it too much damage. As an indicator of size I used my index finger to point out the edge of the fossil.
And now just a few shots of the Belemnites and some Dactylioceras commune ammonite (which I can most definately positively identify.)
And lastly, a Dactylioceras commune ammonite still intact, and still in the nodule in which it was found.
Thank you for your time and patience while reading this, and thank you for taking the journey with me.
Little did I know that the beach I was walking on, would, in a few million years time, be over 200 feet above current sea level and all the shells I was kicking around would be collected by my great great great great great ancestors.
Hmmmm, If only pen knives had been invented by now and I had one to carve my name into that tree over there.
Fast Forward 190 million years ...
I went for a different type of walk/hike yesterday. Instead of hiking up into the hills and dales I decided that a visit to the beach was in order.
Armed with only my day sack (to carry my hammer, and 2 litre bottle of juice I set off in the car and headed to the beach. I could have gone to the nearest one which was only 25 miles away, but I wanted something that was going to be a bit challenging and had some cliffs and strenuous walking involved.
I head east then south until the sea could be seen way down below at the foot of the cliff face. I find a place to adandon/park the car, grab my bag and off I go.
I never even remembered to pack my camera. So I only had the camera on my cell phone
The sea looked so tranquil and calm from up here, 200+ feet below me. I couldn't hear the crashing of the waves on the beach and rocks below, nor the waves pounding against the cliff face.
I found a trail that meandered down the cliff side, through the undergrowth, and into some dense bushes. At some points the path (if it could be called a path) was almost a straight drop of a few feet before turning again into a track. I'm not even sure the local sheep used this trail that often.
After about 25 minutes I eventually reached the foot of the cliffs. Yes, thats right, it took 25 minutes to make my way down 200 feet of hillside and cliff face. Yes, I know it could have been done in a matter of seconds, but I do actually like waking up in the mornings Also, the track/trail took the most accessible route down and also took you of course somewhat.
I'd reached the bottom. Hmmm, decisions decisions. Do I head off south down the coast or north up the coast? There was no tossing of the coin, I just headed north, folloing the beach cliff face as I went. I was walking across pebbles, rocks, and a slate bed, which due to its nature rarely dries out so I wasn't sure whether the tide was going out or coming in.
I wandered along aimlessly. Looking down into the rock pools, occasionally bending to pick up a pebble for closer examination. Should I keep some for tumbling ot should I just drop them and let them live their lives down by the sea. Let them live another day
As the head land got closer and closer it was obvious that there had been a rock fall. When i'll never know, but just by looking at the rocks, and then up at the cliff face they had come from virtually all the way up. I could just imagine now, the silent crashing thunder as the rocks, mud and slate fell almost 200 feet to the beach below. Some of the sand stone rocks were huge, nearly as big as, if not bigger than a 1.5 ton long wheel base transit van. It wasn't a case of climbing over them, you had no choice but to walk round them.
Mmmm, silent crashing thunder?? Eh??? Well, do the falling rocks make a noise if there is no one there to hear them
I rounded the head land, I'd been walking for maybe an hour by this time, and I was still none the wiser as to whether the tide was coming in or out. I got up nearer to the cliff face. Occasionally taking a look up to see what if anything, could possible fall and ruin my day, and my future come to that.
I notice right up the top there, way above the slate and shingle layers, there were huge patches of sand stone. Wowzer, living (or dead) proof that the sea levels have dropped in the last few hundred million years.
I spotted some bullet shaped things sticking out of the shale/slate cliff face, and on closer inspection they were all in a layer of maybe two feet of slate.
I took my hammer out for the first time and started chipping away at the cliff face. Well it wasn't actually that hard, as the slate was crumbling, and all the while you could hear a soft gentle clitter clatter as a small stone or two tumbled down, from way above you, to the beach beside you.
I looked around and noticed that I was in a kind of cove/beach area, maybe 800/900 yards long, with a head land to each side of me, and a sheer cliff face of 200 feet up the way. Which would have been absolutley impossible to climb due to the type of rock. The waves were breaking on the rocks/pebbles about 40 yards away (behind) and there was a gentle slope down to the sea edge.
Just by looking at all the flotsom and jetsome from the sea you could see there was maybe a 20 yard stretch of beach line that never got covered by the water, and did not appear to have any recent rock fall on it.
I hammered/pecked away at the cliff face, slowly, and gently extracting several belemnites. However, I did notice that sometimes it didn't matter how careful you were trying to extract them they still broke into two or more pieces. I also noticed that as they dried out in the warm afternoon air they tended to crack also. Something I will have to remember next time (and yes, there will be a next time,) I visit.
All the time I was so engrossed in chipping out these belemnites I never even once considered or thought about the tide. It wasn't until I noticed that the noise was a bit louder, and the shore line had vanished considerably, that I noticed I was, not so much trapped, but cut off by the advancing tide.
I knew that at the most I'd only have to sit it out for maybe four to six hours at least until I would be able to walk back the way I had came. Easy, when you think about it. There was just so much to help pass the time, that I'd not be bored at all waiting for the tide to change and allow my return passage.
It was just one of those afternoons when from one find to another it was impossible to stop and think about what you were doing.
I just kept on searching, walking up and down the beach, looking at the cliff face, cracking open nodules and digging out fossil after fossil after fossil.
Needless to say my ignorance, never helped in anyway what so ever. I broke up more decent fossils than I managed to salvage.
I only wish I had taken my camera with me. Again, this is going to be a must have item next time I visit here. Oh, and a packed lunch, and something else to do, incase I get cut off again. Not that it bothered me none. I was new and very enthusiastic to this fossil hunting lark/game/hobby.
Anyway, after all that pre-amble, I'm pleased to present you with the items I did manage to save in a modicum of decency.
Firstly, this is the only picture I managed to get, and it was using the camera on my mobile phone.
It's just a picture of a fossil, I was unable to extract. To be honest, I didn't want to attempt to extract it, because it was so big and way way above my level of fossil hunting to get it out without causing it too much damage. As an indicator of size I used my index finger to point out the edge of the fossil.
And now just a few shots of the Belemnites and some Dactylioceras commune ammonite (which I can most definately positively identify.)
And lastly, a Dactylioceras commune ammonite still intact, and still in the nodule in which it was found.
Thank you for your time and patience while reading this, and thank you for taking the journey with me.