A Wilder Time: Notes from a Geologist at the Edge of the Greenland Ice

By William E. Glassley

JOHN BURROUGHS MEDAL FOR DISTINGUISHED NATURAL HISTORY BOOK

A scientist experiences primordial wonders and the wisdom of solitude in one of Earth’s wildest and most endangered places

Greenland, one of the last truly wild places, contains a treasure trove of information on Earth’s early history embedded in its pristine landscape. Over numerous seasons, William E. Glassley and two fellow geologists traveled there to collect samples and observe rock formations for evidence to prove a contested theory that plate tectonics, the movement of Earth’s crust over its molten core, is a much more ancient process than some believed. As their research drove the scientists ever farther into regions barely explored by humans for millennia—if ever—Glassley encountered wondrous creatures and natural phenomena that gave him unexpected insight into the origins of myth, the virtues and boundaries of science, and the importance of seeking the wilderness within.

An invitation to experience a breathtaking place and the fascinating science behind its creation, A Wilder Time is nature writing at its best.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bellevue Literary Press
• Release date: Feb 13, 2018
• ISBN: 9781942658351

Book preview

Introduction

ONE OF THE MOST EXTENSIVE, continuous wilderness regions on Earth, Greenland remains largely submerged by ice. In the area not ice-covered, the landscape materializes as experience, not place. Boundaries, whether real or imagined, named or anonymous, dissolve into opportunities. Senses become remarkably acute, sharpened by the raw purity of what it means to be wild. Greenland is a place of surfaces so rich with history that simply setting foot on them seems to clarify reality.

The objective meaning of Greenland, expressed as simple facts, deserves consideration. That land of rock-fringed ice, if laid onto western North America, would extend beyond the northern and southern borders of the United States, and stretch from San Francisco nearly to Denver. More than 80 percent is buried under the only permanent ice sheet in the northern hemisphere. At its thickest, the ice is more than ten thousand feet deep and holds more than 10 percent of the world’s freshwater. The summit of the ice cap is over twelve thousand feet above sea level.

More than half of Greenland extends above the Arctic Circle. It was the last settled major landmass on the planet, its first population reaching it about 4,500 years ago. It holds the distinction of being the least-populated region in the world, and is the only nation listed in the World Bank database with a value of zero people per square kilometer (the database presents all statistics as whole numbers). That same metric for the United States is 35 people per square kilometer; for the United Kingdom it is 265. Most of its fewer than sixty thousand permanent residents identify as members of the Inuit culture. The largest town is Nuuk, with 16,500 people. There are only seventy-eight towns, villages, communities, and settlements on the entire island. A number of them have fewer than fifty inhabitants. The Inuit culture identifies their country as Kalaallit Nunaat.

Greenland’s culture is steeped in its fishing and hunting traditions, sustainably practiced for hundreds of years. Seal and reindeer are essential staples, providing nourishment and materials for clothing and limited commerce, the hunting done by individuals as part of a subsistence lifestyle. The art, photography, literature, and inherited myths of its indigenous Inuit peoples quietly offer perspective on their home and traditional practices. But in the absence of any significant capitalized trade, few nonnative people have access to it, or can see how it is changing.

The ripple effect of distant decisions made by countries navigating the complex interactions of economics, morality, and the wild world extends even to a place as remote as Greenland. In 1983, in reaction to the attention given to the brutal commercial harvesting of baby seals in Canada, a ban on sealskin trading was imposed by the European Economic Community, followed in 2009 by a European Union ban on trade in seal products. The consequences were far-reaching, some of which were unintended. A loss of income from the sale of sealskins and other products devastated Greenland’s Inuit hunting culture. The extinction of the seal market diminished seal hunting, causing an explosive growth in seal populations. With a rapid expansion in the number of fish predators, fish populations consequently declined, impacting that component of their subsistence lifestyle, as well. Even with very recent modifications to the ban—those allowing Inuit cultures to pursue sustainable seal harvesting—the impact on income has been significant. Today, about 60 percent of Greenland’s economy is supported by an annual block grant from the Kingdom of Denmark, of which it is an independent member. Greenland remains a country struggling to return to a sustainable existence, but now with the added complexity of a rapidly changing climate, the challenge is formidable.

WHAT FOLLOWS ARE MY EXPERIENCES of Greenland’s surfaces from six expeditions. The story unfolds in three parts, each part containing the suite of formative sensory experiences that shifted my perception. Fractionation documents the deconstruction of expectations, relating experiences that exposed the depth of my ignorance about knowing place. Consolidation describes the process of coming to terms with the reality that, as a product of organic and physical evolution, my ignorance is an integral part of being aware. Emergence derives from small epiphanies about our place in existence, what we can know of the world and what we cannot.

That we have a place in this world implies responsibilities, but it does not signify meaning. The majestic power of wilderness is its ability to convey that seeming contradiction through the overwhelming beauty of evolution’s carelessness. That we have an impact on its unfolding is revealed in the reconstruction wilderness imposes upon itself when confronted by changes in climate that mankind has induced and to which wilderness must respond.

The book is not chronological. Experiences that change perception accumulate in odd ways that are personal and often not initially understood. The reconstruction of a new way of seeing is piecemeal. Each insight or shifted perception fills a space in a timeless tapestry that will never be completed.

Wilderness speaks with unmitigated honesty. Every belief and imagining that we bring with us as we enter such spaces also reflect back to us, but in a form that can be difficult to recognize. My hope in writing this book is that the value of truly pristine wilderness, as a place from which to sense how we each fit within the grand unfolding universe, will inspire its preservation. If we lose wilderness, finding our roots, personally and as a species, will be virtually impossible.

IMPRESSIONS I

Beauty itself is but the sensible image of the infinite.

—George Bancroft

ALL THAT WE SEE IS SURFACE. What we perceive as experience derives from light reflected, a product of events that have flowed to the present and become, in a moment, a shape seen. Life teaches us to extract texture and form, weight and warmth from that impression.

But what is it that silently rests below that cosmic skin, composing the thing we sense? We reach toward the stars to understand why the sun rises, why winter comes, why we must die. And yet, what we find in each answer and insight is a deeper question, an underlying complex of mysteries that serve only to feed our imagination. With these fragments, we construct a body of knowledge about the components of our world, each of us building a unique framework that becomes the context for our individual lives, the thing upon which we hang notions of meaning.

Through this process, we have come to realize that life is an unstoppable force that endlessly evolves, eventually achieving the emergence of mind from stardust and time. And yet, despite the stupefying significance of this revelation, we also see that, from a cosmic perspective, we are a trivial event. We are a speck on a flowing river of entropy that still gushes from an unfathomable beginning nearly fourteen billion years ago. We’re enthralled by a story we suspect the stars possess, but we remain unable to grasp its outline. We wander over landscapes, looking for histories the stones sequester, hoping there will be in them a flicker of an insight that will expose something worth cherishing.

FRACTIONATION

One thing had impressed us deeply on this little voyage: the great world dropped away very quickly. We lost the fear and fierceness and contagion of war and economic uncertainty. The matters of great importance that we had left were not important. There must be an infective quality in these things. We had lost the virus, or it had been eaten by the anti-bodies of quiet. Our pace had slowed greatly; the hundred thousand small reactions of our daily world were reduced to very few.

—John Steinbeck

Silence

THE BOAT THAT BROUGHT US into the field was a fishing trawler chartered by the Geological Survey of Denmark and Greenland. It had a baby blue hull, a weathered, varnished wheelhouse that two people could cram into, and a worn wooden deck, onto which we had piled the backpacks, crates, tents, a few bags of fresh food, and other gear meant to sustain our little expedition. John, Kai, and I met the boat in Aasiaat, West Greenland, on the southern edge of Disko Bugt. Aasiaat is one of the largest towns in Greenland, with a population of just over 3,100 people. Walking through every street, passing every house, would take a few hours on a summer afternoon.

Under the watchful eye of Peter, the skipper, we had spent half an hour loading the trawler, securing the gear, and inventorying before setting off into the iceberg-studded waters. The trip would take many hours, so we took turns napping in the tiny forecastle, where two bunks were tightly bolted to the bulkhead. The sound of the sea swishing by could be heard through the hull’s three-inch-thick oak planks. I slept for about an hour, then went back on deck to watch the scenery.

The air was still and cool, the water like glass under an overcast sky. Whales occasionally breached in the distance, feeding on schools of small fish at the surface. We passed by skerries, some with packs of huskies that had been left there for the summer by their masters. The sled dogs were nearly feral.

I leaned against the peeling rail, mesmerized, the chug-chug-chug of the two-stroke diesel thumping in the background. I was warmly dressed in a field shirt, sweater, and fleece jacket, a woolen skullcap pulled down to my ears, my body braced against the forty-degree chill.

As the islands passed, the world I was leaving behind tugged with an unexpected angst. I had been anticipating the expedition for months, looking forward to sharing with old friends what I knew would be daily discoveries in a virtually unexplored terrain. But an aching sorrow overwhelmed that excitement—my wife and daughter would not be seen or heard for months, the sweet pleasures of family life erased, the known small comforts of cooking meals together, sharing movies, reading the newspaper, laughing with friends at parties, taking Nina to the bus for school—gone.

My contemplation was broken when the first mate came up and leaned against the rail next to me. His sand-colored hair was matted; his blue eyes blazed in a weather-beaten face. His nose, broad and flat, made it clear he had some history. His English was perfect, but with an accent I didn’t expect.

So, what’re you guys doin’ up here? he asked. Despite the cold, he was dressed in a short-sleeved T-shirt and jeans.

We’re geologists, I said, quickly recovering a semblance of composure. We’re here to study the rocks.

He thought for a moment and then said, Hmm. Lookin’ for gold?

No, just interested in the history of the rocks.

He nodded and pursed his lips.

Why is that interesting? he asked nonchalantly. He wasn’t looking at me—his eyes were on the slowly passing scenery.

I explained that there was some debated evidence that a mountain system about the size of the Himalayas or the Alps had existed there nearly two billion years ago. Now all that was left were cryptic hints preserved in what might have been the deep roots of that old mountain system. After so much time, erosion had brought those potential roots to the surface, where we could study them to see if that story were

Reviews for A Wilder Time

[jbd1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Took the chance to take this one on a trip to Iceland, and ended up reading it on the plane home, during which flight I happened to look out the window to find completely clear skies looking down over the Greenland ice sheet and then the glaciers and fjords of the west coast, to the south of where Glassley was studying in the expeditions covered by this book. An awfully nice complement to the text, I found! There's some pretty complicated geological debating in here, but generally it's just a very well done account of study and scenery in Greenland, which makes for absorbing reading.

[kcshankd · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This in amazing work, an homage to field work perhaps second to only Steinbeck's Log of the Sea of Cortez. I felt the bounce of the boat and chill of the ice. I too have looked down at the soaring raptor and entered their world.The paragraphs on the voice of the tide may be my favorite passage ever, by anyone. A zodiac with three geologists is maneuvering to a enter a fjord in the west coast of Greenland to study a vein of rock at the edge of a 2 billion year old shear zone, where tectonic plates mashed, an ocean disappeared, squeezed out of existence into the earth's crust. The mountain range created has since been eroded to its very roots that are now emerging from Greenland's melting ice. There is an island at the head of the fjord with a channel at either side to open water. They are skimming along the sea when they run headlong into the ebb tide bore and are nearly tossed from the boat:"Kai and I sit attenatively, hands holding the side ropes, tensely aware that things are not really under control, but relieved that the small boat is stable. John skillfully works the outboard, maneuvering cautiously through the current. We look ahead, watching the turbulent water as though searching for something but not having a clue what it might be we are looking for. Then, as though emerging from behind a curtain, a vaguely dangerous presence asserts itself. There is no doubt it has been there all the time, but the more immediate need to keep from being thrown into the water was the only thing we thought about. Now, in a more relaxed state, perception expands and we sense a threat.The sound of loud thunder shakes us so we look to the skies, searching for thunderheads, but we see none. The sky is mainly blue, with cotton puffs of clouds lightly sprinkled about. But the sound is pervasive, reverberating all around us, and does not stop, a deep-throated pounding rumble. Our Zodiac is made of inflated rubber pontoons; they form the pointed bow and the sides. The other inflated cross tubes span the inside for strengthening, but they also serve as benches. The floor is a rubberized fabric over which thin boards are wedged to give stability and rigidity. It is up through the flooring that the thunder booms. We quickly realize that the sound must be coming from huge boulders propelled by the rushing tide, tumbling over the hard rock walls and bottom of the fjord, sculpting out of the bedrock of gneisses and schists a submerged secret landscape. Minute after minute, the pounding rumble echoes up through the water, through our little boat, and into the cool air. We look at one another and at the rushing water, listen to the sounds, and hunker down a little more. John revs the engine a bit, and we make our way closer to shore. Carefully, we cruise along about a stone' throw out."The voice of the tide.

[bks1953 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This review is dedicated to Charles, aka Chip, who generously befriended me in HS a handful of decades ago. We went our separate ways upon graduation; his chosen field was geology. Thus, Chip was much in my mind as I began to read geologist William E. Glassley's A Wilder Time." Glassley and two colleagues/friends explore the rock formations of Greenland, above the Arctic Circle, in hopes of proving that plate tectonics (the floating, if you will, of Earth's crust on its molten core) is more ancient than currently thought. Throughout the journey, Glassley learns as much about himself as he does the rocks. Now, I really wanted to enjoy this book, and in no small measure, I did. Glassley's encounters with a still pristine little corner of our planet, can be evocative and certainly thought-provoking. But those of you who remember Action Figure Librarian will recall one of her rules: with any book, read as many pages as your age; if it hasn't grabbed hold of you by then, put the down and pick up another, as there is too much good stuff out there. Well, I read well more pages than my age, and, with apologies to Chip, "A Wilder Time" did not grab hold of me as other books have. This is no slap at Glassley: from my own LT statistics, I've read almost 1400 books, listing a little over 200 of them as my favorites, which is about 15%. I certainly appreciate Mr Glassley's imagination, insight, and power of observation, but I probably should have had Chip nearby to help me with the geologic specifics.

[mykl8s · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A Wilder Time, is a geological detective story, a memoir, and most importantly, a meditation on the importance of wilderness.William E. Glassley writes about the smell of ice, the perfume of tundra plants, the sights and sounds and tastes and feel of everything he experiences on a month-long expedition with two geologist friends. They are working on the west coast of Greenland, researching evidence of the very early history of continents and oceans. Much interesting geology is explained: theory, field work, procedures in the laboratory. Mixed with this, in grounded poetic language, is his sense of awe at what he is privileged to see by being there. I found myself skimming through some of the geology, and savoring, sometimes rereading, the images of wild nature.It is a short but important book.

[9cee9 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This book makes me want to pack up my camping gear and go explore Greenland - though maybe I should wait till Spring. Glassley sweeps up the reader with his astonishing portrayal of the wilderness - clear and crisp. The geologic explorations and research of three experienced experts in the field to explain the tectonic formation and epic changes of the earth are beautifully balanced by the author's philosophic meditations on his sense of the wilderness. On a mission to prove (or disprove) a scientific theory and settle a controversy, Glassley's documentation renders a faith in the precise research and dogged efforts to uncover the secrets of millions of years cast in stone. And yet the asides of thoughtful observations gives a sense and a yearning for the wild other-worldness rarely experienced by humans. Thank goodness for the maps but would have loved pictures of the dramatic landscapes and odd rock formations he encountered. I suppose that would make another whole book. This was an interesting and enjoyable reading experience.

[snash_44 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

It is hard to sense the awe, raw beauty, and self-insignificance experienced in a wilderness while sitting in a city, but this book makes that possible. I had some difficulty following all of the geology before reading the epilogue but that didn't diminish my appreciation of the book. A poignant cry for the preservation of what little wilderness remains on earth.

[tarheel-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A Wilder Time is part expedition travelogue, part introduction and discussion of plate tectonics, and part meditation on the serenity and importance of wilderness. Blended approaches can become unfocused and muddy (especially in a succinct 224 pages), but Glassey’s narrative is sublime and results in one of the better examples of all three genres in over a decade. Highly recommended for fans of John McPhee and Bill Bryson. Further recommend stretching the reading over several nights to better contemplate and enjoy this remarkable book.

[msarki_3 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

"The richer the past that is contained in memory, the stronger the congruity with the moment will be, and the better we will know what the world is."The title was of great interest. Our vanishing wilderness more important to us now than ever before. Economic self-interests continue to devour what remains of our wild lands. At risk is the loss of our own “essential wildness”. Believing the lives that lived there “are worthy of our recognition and respect”, William E. Glassley shares and celebrates the wild so that it may be saved.

[jamesgwld · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

William Glassley is an Earth scientist that has published scientific papers for the past forty years. Glassley’s new book, A Wilder Time, moves away from scientific dialect and instead invites the reader to venture into a poetic, visual journey into Greenland. This is not a book to learn geology even though there are tidbits of technical explanations added to give context to a particular story. A Wilder Time is a wilderness lover’s observation of a world not yet harnessed by man. It is nice to read a book on the environment that makes the reader feel a sense of joy. Glassley succeeded in giving 2018 a great start for nature books.

[tnilsson_24 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I assumed William E. Glassley’s book, A Wilder Time: Notes from a Geologist at the Edge of the Greenland Ice, would be similar to other popular science books I’ve read; books that seek to educate the general public about what it’s like to work in a particular scientific field, what is being learned, and why the field merits further study. In this case, I expected to learn what it’s like to conduct geological field research in the wilds of Greenland, and I half-expected an overly-technical discussion of rocks that would make my eyes glaze over. In the end, the book did not turn out to be what I expected.That’s not to say that Glassley’s book didn’t educate me about geology or about the joys and difficulties of field research in Greenland. Or that it didn’t give a discussion or rocks. It did both. I learned things about geology, about plate tectonics, and about relevant scientific debates, but not in an overly-technical or boring manner. I also learned about the difficulties of field research in Greenland, which include clouds of mosquitos, ice-water baths, and freezing ocean currents that thunderously propel large boulders across the sea-floor (likely meaning death for anyone unfortunate enough to fall in). What I mean is that Glassley’s book turned out to be so much more than what I expected. This is likely because Glassley isn’t some dry geologist with his head down among the rocks. He’s lyrically and appreciatively philosophical, in a scientific way, if that makes any sense. And he seems well-read outside his field, something too-often lacking in scientists (or in anyone else, for that matter). Glassley’s musings opened my eyes to insights about our world, about our origins, and even about classical mythology that, while they should perhaps be obvious to any reasonably well-read person, aren’t thoughts most people ever give sufficient time to. I’m glad Glassley takes the time to give them though, and to share his thoughts with others.While I suspect that a scientific expedition with Glassley could be somewhat aggravating, as he seems to have a tendency to wander off by himself, lost in reveries and observations that may have little to do with the research at hand, I think he’d be a fascinating hiking partner as he would undoubtedly notice and point out things most other people would have missed. Glassley gives second-thoughts to things most people don’t even give first-thoughts to, and I feel the better, and the more enlightened, for his having shared his thoughts with me through his book.My only wish for his book is that it had included more photos, and color photos at that. Glassley waxes lyrically about many vistas and rock formations that, while well-described, would have been nice to see in photographic form. But I read an uncorrected author's proof of the book, so perhaps the final version does contain such photos. I hope it does. In any event, the lack of photos is a minor quibble as to an otherwise marvelous, and quite unique, popular science book. Well done Dr. Glassley!

[davidwineberg · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A gem in GreenlandA Wilder Time is a lyrical yet scientific appreciation of Greenland and what it has to say about Earth. William Glassley takes us along on a summer expedition to discover what Greenland actually is in paleo terms. His team of three finds that Greenland was there at the clash of continents, near the very beginning. They find rock 3.4 billion years old, right out in the landscape. They find a wall of giant orthopyroxene crystals that exist nowhere else in this size, stacked like a stockpile of bricks. Theory says they were forged in magma chambers 20 miles down, 2.8 billion years ago, but until now, we’ve never seen whole ones. In Greenland, they’re on permanent exhibition. They also find peace, tranquility, vast vistas, silence and an appreciation of the tiny things we’re far too busy to even know about. The less you have to think about, the more bandwidth you have for what’s in front of you. It is a delightful recounting of a wonderful adventure.For a geologist, Glassley writes like a poet: “Suddenly, I understood Earth to be a manuscript, written in an extraordinary calligraphy, embellished with an artistry I could barely discern.” He gives all kinds of dimensions to what could have been a very dry book. Glassley himself is a unique specimen. A southern California surfer dude who by his own admission was punished and expelled from school numerous times, he managed to focus on geology and bring a nuanced appreciation of nature to everything he does. At one point he lies flat on the tundra to better locate a ptarmigan perfectly camouflaged in the lichen, and discovers the multiple fragrances of arctic flowers you cannot perceive at six feet. I think mensch is the technical term for this man. Greenland itself is a vast treasure. It is an island that would stretch from British Columbia to Mexico and from San Francisco to Denver. Its ice sheet is still 12,000 feet thick. It still contains 600,000 cubic miles of frozen water – 10% of the water in the oceans. As it recedes, more land is exposed - and more treasures.Glassley’s attachment to Greenland reminds me of the stories of white Americans kidnapped by Indians in the 1800s. Many who were let go, both men and women, were miserable and had to literally escape civilization to try to make it back to the tribe. There are no cases of freed Indians longing to escape the tribe and return to town life. For Glassley, Greenland is life.David Wineberg