Showing posts with label Gene Shoemaker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gene Shoemaker. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

Disrupted Terrain at the Antipodes of Young Great Basins

A new study of areas diametrically opposite from the Moon's youngest basins goes beyond crustal magnetic fields and swirl albedo features found at these focal points and proposes examples of highly modified terrain. Animation from preliminary lunar crust thickness maps prepared from GRAIL (2012) data by the Science Visualization Studio. [NASA/GSFC].
Joel Raupe
Lunar Pioneer

Studying the lunar magnetic anomalies and albedo swirls nested near the antipodes, at those points that are absolute opposite on the Moon from its youngest basins, can be a little disorienting. The antipodes of the two most familiar nearside basins Mare Imbrium and Mare Serenitatis, for example, are also near the mountainous northwest and northern border region of the vast (and more ancient) South Pole-Aitken (SPA) basin.

Such simple facts as these, derived during the relatively short history of modern lunar exploration, camouflage a variety of unknowns and complexities, as well as some controversy over the origin of the peculiar features discovered there.

Within ten degrees of the farside coordinates diametrically opposite from the officially designated center of Mare Imbrium, close to the surface, is a fairly well-known local magnetic field. Associated with this crustal magnetism is one of the Moon's most familiar tracings of delicate and bright albedo "swirls," apparently composed of a very thin layer of fine dust of the sort of low optical maturity, a signature of the Moon's youngest features draped over its oldest.

Like some kind of alien graffiti, these swirls really stand out as attributes of Mare Ingenii, the largest lava-flooded plain on the farside, a hemisphere almost as devoid of "seas" as the Moon's Earth-facing side is covered by them.

The Ingenii swirl fields are a highlight of anyone's tour of the Moon. To start considering these giant swirls traced over the surface of Ingenii as integral to Mare Imbrium on the Moon's nearside can sometimes seem like reading through a mirror.

Mare Imbrium is probably the most easily detected 'naked-eye feature' of the tidally-bound Earth-facing hemisphere. Centered officially by the IAU at 34.72°N, 345.09°E, the corresponding, though still preliminary, antipode for the Imbrium basin should be near 34.72°S,165.09°E, on the farside's southern hemisphere.

The antipode of Mare Imbrium (yellow spot) was a foci of conjoining seismic shock and ejecta from the epoch-changing basin-forming impact that hollowed out Mare Imbrium, roughly 3.85 billion years ago. Persistent bright surface markings that have lasted beyond the 800 million to 1 billion years thought to inevitably darken lunar regolith are thought to be the result of a cyclical interaction of charged lunar dust precipitating through the locally intense magnetic field. The white rectangle outlines one of many areas of disrupted terrain, "material of grooves and mounds" identified on the geological map of Stuart-Alexander (1978). LROC Wide Angle Camera (WAC) monochrome mosaic [NASA/GSFC/Arizona State University].
When we think of the clusters of features often found together near these points directly opposite from the Moon's nearside basins it's often easier to label Mare Ingenii as Imbrium Antipode, and the Gerasimovich region as Crisium Antipode, etc.

This unconventional labeling emerges as we study a whole family of, literally, "far-flung phenomena," though most of the species, fortunately, are not yet associated with a local name. Unlike the more easily spotted features at Mare Ingenii, now thought to have originated with Mare Imbrium, such features elsewhere are less easily picked out, overlapping widely differing terrains and a variety of mountain ranges, plains and crater groups.

A very distinctive bifurcated swirl, one of many similar, striking aspects of Mare Ingenii, on the Moon's farside and immediately adjacent to the antipode of Mare Imbrium. From an oblique LROC NAC observation M191830503R, LRO orbit 13304, May 16, 2012 [NASA/GSFC/Arizona State University].
The point on the Moon opposite Mare Serenitatis is not as distinctive (see image below). The coordinates were easy enough to determine, like the Imbrium Antipode it's just inside the circumference of SPA basin, a little north and east the antipode of Imbrium as Serenitatis basin, on the nearside, is a little south and east of Imbrium.

Like most of the farside, however, there is no mare-inundated plain near the Serenitatis antipode to allow for a clear photographic contrast with local differences in albedo. The crustal magnetism (or the granularity of our data) seems more diffuse, with smaller, less intense knots of crust magnetism.

The absence on the Moon of the kind of global magnetic field that affords life so much welcome protection here on Earth was one of the earliest conclusions of modern lunar exploration. As men and machines transited to and from the surface, however, the magnetic picture became more complex. The earliest magnetometers, in orbit and on the surface, were detecting magnetic signatures bound to local features, but their local intensity and apparent close association of with surfaces that seemed to defy aging were only beginning to be grasped.

The Serenitatis Antipode is not as easy for the naked eye to pick out from the background as points opposite the Imbrium basin associated with Mare Ingenii. The antipode of Serenitatis is marked with a cross in frame one (Figure 5 from the study by Hood, et al (2013). In that same frame the authors draw attention to mountains along the rim of SPA basin (white arrows) as possible examples of terrain disrupted by the Serenitatis basin-forming impact here near the opposite point on the Moon. The frame following draws attention to two anomalous optically immature surface areas within Galois Q crater, followed by Clementine color ratio analysis where the older terrain (red) surface areas stand out with characteristics of new (blue) and reflective regolith fines. The twin patches coincide with a local magnetic field strength "bump" measuring 9nT. The final frame shows the same albedo patches at 77 meters resolution in LROC Wide Angle Camera (WAC) observation M160959807C (604 nm), spacecraft orbit 8854, May 25, 2011, angle of incidence 62° from 60 km [NASA/USGS/DOD/GSFC/Arizona State University].
As the Apollo era came to an end it was understood, at least, that the Moon seemed once to have had an internal dynamo like Earth, generating global magnetism fossilized today in its rocks. A higher resolution picture of the Moon's magnetism and its interrelation with the Sun, Earth and its own dust would wait for a second very slowly renewed period of unmanned exploration beginning with vehicles like the DOD remote sensing test platform Clementine (1994).

At the close of the 20th century the remarkable Lunar Prospector (1998-1999) helped add important pieces to the picture. Specifically, the small vehicle returned highly valued data on the Moon's local magnetic fields very close to the surface, as it was gradually lowered toward a planned impact within the permanently shadowed Shoemaker crater, a feature of the far lunar south today baring the name of the celebrated pioneer Gene Shoemaker (1928-1997) who originally planned the impact that inspired the LCROSS mission ten years later.

Investigators have continued to correct and tease valuable information from the sparse Lunar Prospector magnetometer data to this day. The data sometimes allowed identifying lunar features in a manner opposite than before. Reiner Gamma, the most familiar swirl phenomena in Oceanus Procellarum, stands out in low power telescopes. Its associated crustal magnetism was identified later. Elsewhere on the nearside magnetometer data from as few as one to three late mission low orbital passes by Lunar Prospector allowed diffuse albedo patches at Airy and Descartes to be definitively associated with locally intense crustal magnetism and identified as true "swirl phenomena."

Figure 9 from Hood, et al (2013) - Superposition of the two-dimensionally filtered magnetic field magnitude at approximately 25 km altitude (Lunar Prospector), contour interval 1 nano-Tesla, onto LROC WAC mosaic of the nearside, in the south-central highlands vicinity of the Apollo 16 landing site.
Simulated oblique view over ancient Descartes crater (29 km - 11.74°S, 15.66°E), from the Cayley Formation plains explored by Young and Duke on the Apollo 16 expedition (1972) in the northwest around 80 km southeast over the "disrupted terrain" of the Descartes Formation, highlighting its anomalous albedo, not coincidentally at the heart of one of the Moon's most intense crustal magnetic fields. LROC WAC mosaic, from observations collected in three sequential orbital passes December 3, 2011, averaging 52 meters resolution from 38 km - Figure 5 from "Boulder 668 at Descartes C," July 17, 2012 [NASA/GSFC/Arizona State University].
At Orientale Antipode, opposite from what is the Moon's unequivocally youngest basin, the swirl field is very widespread, associated with more than a few peaks in local crustal magnetism. The largest affected feature on the opposite side of the Moon from Mare Orientale is Mare Marginis, characterized by what is likely the Moon's largest and most complex field of swirls at the surface, overlapping every kind of terrain, but also closely identified with the Goddard and Goddard A crater. Still, the actual boundaries of this field of 'persistent albedo patterns' are difficult to trace.

Adding to this complexity, the swirl field near Orientale Antipode has been affected by relatively recent impacts, some with brightly reflective rays. The field is spread far enough east, extending over the farside's mid-latitudes, it's difficult to say with certainty whether an unnamed, tightly wound spectacular swirl field east of Firsov crater belongs to the group.

The Orientale Antipode (near Goddard A) is characterized by very widespread swirls. The greater manifestation (large oval) extends far from the pronounced magnetic field lines of peak strength near Hubble, Goddard and Goddard A craters east nearly to a distant and weaker peak field strength associated with the spectacular field of swirls seemingly spilling out from a bright unnamed Copernican crater east of Firsov (4.204°N, 112.697°E). LROC WAC global 100 meter mosaic [NASA/GSFC/Arizona State University].
Three investigators with established planetary science resumes which include (among many other things) peer-reviewed study of these bright swirl 'patterns' and associated lunar magnetic anomalies, have recently authored a new study building on continued fine-tuning of Lunar Prospector (1998-1999) magnetometer data and the more recent Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter (LRO) Wide Angle Camera (WAC) surveys.

The new paper, published in the Journal of Geophysical Research, “Origin of Strong Lunar Magnetic Anomalies: More Detailed Mapping and Examination of LROC Imagery in Regions Antipodal to Young Large Basins,” demonstrates further the recent end to a long controversy, helping answer the Space Age mystery posed by the Moon’s delicate, bright, often sinuous surface albedo patterns.

A crew member on-board Apollo 10 almost managed to capture the full length of the magnificent but unnamed surficial albedo swirl field now associated with a measurable peak in crustal magnetism east of Firsov crater. AS10-30-4365 [NASA].
As with most controversies on the long climb of science, a quiet resolution drew upon bits and pieces collected in pursuit of answers to many, often unrelated, questions.

Launched in early 1998, Lunar Prospector spent 19 months in a low polar orbit and became notorious for a remarkably low budget and high return of valued data as much as for improved mapping of the scattered neutron absorption strongly hinting at the presence of volatiles, specifically hydrogen, prematurely ruled out following early analysis of Apollo samples in 1969.

In 2013 terms, for the amount of money the federal government collects, borrows and spends every eight and a half minutes Lunar Prospector gained a well-deserved reputation and confirmed still skeptically-received indications of the presence of hydrogen, both inside and outside the permanently shadowed regions of the Moon’s polar latitudes.
“Will your grace command me any service to the world's end?  I will go on the slightest errand now, to the Antipodes that you can devise to send me on…”
- Much Ado About Nothing, (Act II, scene 2)
The planned mission-ending impact of Lunar Prospector on the permanently shadowed floor of Shoemaker crater, near the Moon’s South Pole, July 30, 1999 (a long-shot, ultimately unsuccessful attempt to send up a plume of volatiles detectable from Earth), inspired the very successful LCROSS mission, launched together with LRO, a decade later.

With its neutron spectrometer, mapping the absence, the absorption, of scattered neutrons indicative of hydrogen, possibly water ices, near the lunar poles, Lunar Prospector also deployed a sensitive magnetometer.

The Moon’s lack of an Earth-like global magnetic field was well known, though Apollo and Luna surface samples clearly indicated the Moon may once have had the kind of molten internal dynamo at its core we take for granted on Earth, a now-dormant generator sufficient for global magnetism, its signature locked into the lineup direction of certain materials as volcanic rock cooled in its earliest ages, some of these as much as a billion years apart. The magnetic fields detected at the surface and from orbit, speculation held, were likely fossilized remnants, surviving islands – though the presence of “lunar magnetic anomalies” on the Moon’s Farside, in concentrations near opposite on the Moon (antipodal) from the Nearside’s large basins was seen as an unlikely coincidence very early in post-Apollo studies.

Along with anomalous local crustal magnetism detected near the Moon’s most famous “swirl,” the alluring Reiner Gamma, bright against the darker background of Oceans Procellarum, and the presence of swirls, some of them spectacular, in vicinity of these islands of knotted magnetic field lines - at the antipodes of Mare Imbrium and Serenitatis - was impossible to ignore.

Very near the Antipodes of Mare Imbrium in particular, the earliest photographs of the Moon’s Farside unveiled a spectacular swirl “field,” seeming almost intelligent in origin, Minimalist butterflies or spiders, strange forms seemed lightly painted in white on the darker floor of the melt-inundated basin floor of Mare Ingenii, by some inscrutable giant almost evoking the walls and ceilings of the cave of Lascaux, or the Nazca Lines.

“Swirls” seem immune from “optical maturity,” an inevitable darkening (really reddening) by solar and cosmic radiation. Incessant bombardment should inevitably weather fade such contrast to match its surroundings, on a timescale between 800 million to 1 billion years.

Had there had been any indication the bright patterns were composed of rough, fresh and reflectively bright small ejecta, like the rays of young 109 million year old Tycho, for example, a predictable cycle of meteorite and micro-meteorite “gardening” turns over the upper 3 centimeters of the entire lunar surface each two million years. Space weather, therefore, should have contributed to their erasure. It was a strong argument for direct, or lacking any difference in the crater counts inside and outside the swirls, indirect encounters with comets.

The comet encounter theory for the origin of lunar swirls died hard. Proponents pointed to the optical immaturity, the undeniably fresh material of the brighter surface, and claimed this to be evidence that outweighed other factors.

The predominance of Farside swirls gathered near places opposite from the Nearside basins and in the presence of coincident local crustal magnetism, they wrote, pointed perhaps to relatively recent and oblique encounters with comets interacting electro-chemically with these unusual conditions. The still-interesting fact that Reiner Gamma, and two lesser known magnetic anomalies with accompanying bright albedo patches on the Nearside seemed to lack any identified basins at their opposing antipodes on the Farside, they claimed, was also exceptional.

As the recorded readings measured from the Lunar Prospector magnetometer were gradually corrected, properly matched with time, the pressures of sunlight, etc., over many years following the end of that mission in 1999, researchers began discovering, or confirming, the existence of swirls after first deciphering the location of smaller, though sometimes intense, magnetic fields.

Ironically, the most intense magnetic field detected by any of the Apollo surface expeditions, that of Apollo 16, was measured only 80 km northwest of possibly the most intense crustal magnetism on the Moon, together with the amorphous small brighter surface material of the Descartes Formation. John Young and Charlie Duke walked on the northwestern edge of this feature when sampling the Cinco craters on “Stone Mountain,” overlooking South Ray crater, in April 1972.

The Lunar Prospector magnetometer survey of the Moon made for an improvement on earlier maps, but the mission was not comprehensive. Its advantage, at the time, was an unprecedented low orbit, an orbital altitude gradually lowering more and more as the vehicle approached its demise. The data had an inherent high degree of accuracy because of improvements in electronics and hardened electronics since the Apollo era, and a value-added accuracy due to the patience and hard work of investigators properly pegging the to geography and time, in filtering out the noise long after Lunar Prospector was gone.

Much of what is now known about the lunar magnetic anomaly on the Descartes highland hugging the northern edge of ancient Descartes crater, was teased from its measurements taken through three late mission orbits, when Lunar Prospector orbited some 32 km first over the east, and in the next orbit passing directly over Descartes, and last over the west.

Hood and Richmond, authors of this latest study, published their examination of the Lunar Prospector encounter with Descartes in 2003, determining the intensity of the very local magnetic field sufficient to refract the solar wind, dubbing it a “mini-magnetosphere.”

At nearly the same time, similarly strong local magnetic anomalies, though slightly less intense and localized, were shown embedded on the Farside at Gerasimovich, and perhaps elsewhere.

Some were quick to speculate, if a crustal magnetism centered on the Descartes formation were strong enough to refract the solar wind, perhaps such protection prevented the dusty surface of the bright “swirl” on the southern half of “Stone Mountain” from becoming “optically mature.”

The authors were quick to point out in their introductory paper even such an obviously intense local magnetic field offered no protections from heavier cosmic radiation. The depth of the cavity in the solar wind formed by Descartes magnetic anomaly was insufficient to stop highly energetic, and heavy, nucleons traveling – unlike the particles of a solar wind – close to the speed of light. They estimated such a purpose would require a magnetic field 2,000 km across just to begin deflecting highly energetic cosmic rays away from the surface within the fields. Naturally, such a field would have no effect on the patient and steady rain of micro-meteorites adding to the surface maturity.

Ignoring, for the moment, most magnetic anomalies with their attendant swirls are not sufficiently intense to carve out a transitory cavity in the solar wind, the authors demonstrated the most astonishingly enduring, and intense magnetic field ever detected near the lunar surface was no protection from space weathering.

By all rights, the surfaces within their influence should be darkening at or close to the same rate as the lunar surface elsewhere.

Enter Kaguya, Chandrayaan, LRO…

Toppography.

For decades the nature and the origin or the swirl patterns stirred very minor controversy, in planetary science communities. Those who insisted lunar swirls originated from comet encounters

Early in the Space Age investigators concluded our Moon, unlike Earth,

One place suggested as a possible location for samples of the SPA basin is northeast of Plato, where, between that famous crater and the long northern edge of Mare Frigoris, probability points toward the possible existence of a debris pile, the antipodes of the South Pole-Aitken basin.

In this latest study, Hood, Richmond and Spudis add granularity to our understanding the relationship between basin forming impacts and how they modify the landscape at the most remote points possible, as far away from Ground Zero as anyone can get, and remain on the Moon.

Anyone can meditate on Mare Imbrium, for example, and see how energetic the pressure wave, racing away from the center of the impact, scoured out mountains and channels and hurled away and dumped unimaginable masses of melt and solid debris many hundreds of kilometers away. The scar has not been erased, and a significant amount of debris must have been ejected at escape velocity. Much of that material eventually returned or settled elsewhere in the Solar System.

On February 15, 2013, as many in the far-flung world’s astronomy community were preparing to observe an exceptionally close fly-by of asteroid 2012 DA14, out of the glare of the pre-dawn over Central Asia a 7,000 ton, 15 meter-wide rock encountered Earth’s atmosphere at a relative speed of 18 km per second. Immediately flaring bright, it quickly exploded 20 km overhead. The event produced a shockwave into the atmosphere over Chelyabinsk that immediately imparted ten times the energy of the fission bomb exploded over Hiroshima in 1945. The sound of that smaller asteroid’s explosion traveled around the entire planet several times before seismic stations of the world could detect it no longer.

The pressure wave from the Chelyabinsk Event propagated in every direction away from the explosion until all points on the wave converged west-southwest of South America, where the far South Pacific borders the Great Southern Ocean encircling Antarctica. The momentum of the wave through the atmosphere carried past this convergence point, the Antipode of the Chelyabinsk Event, and continued racing away until a second convergence occurred many hours later, back over Russia, where the energy continued on toward the antipode a second time, and so on, like ripples in a pond – only the pond, in this case, was a planet, and its shoreline a single point on the opposite side of the world.


Related Posts:
Bubble, Bubble – Swirl and Trouble (July 19, 2012)
Boulder 668 at Descartes C (July 16, 2012)
LROC: The Swirls of Mare Ingenii (June 22, 2012)
Remnant magnetism hints at once-active lunar core (January 27, 2012)
Grand lunar swirls yielding to LRO Mini-RF (October 4, 2010)
Another look at Reiner Gamma (June 30, 2010)
LOLA: Goddard (June 26, 2010)
Depths of Mare Ingenii (June 16, 2010)
LROC: Ingenii Swirls at Constellation Region of Interest (May 26, 2010)
Local topography and Reiner Gamma (May 22, 2010)
Lunar swirl phenomena from LRO (May 17, 2010)
The still-mysterious Descartes formation (May 11, 2010)
Dust transport and its importance in the origin of lunar swirls (February 21, 2010)
The Heart of Reiner Gamma (November 17, 2009)
Moon’s mini-magnetospheres are old news (November 16, 2009)
MIT claim of solving ‘lunar mystery’ unfounded (January 15, 2009)

Friday, January 25, 2013

Geological mapping of another world

Eugene Shoemaker with some of the first geological maps of the Moon, in Flagstaff, Arizona during the mid-1960's
Paul D. Spudis
The Once & Future Moon
Smithsonian Air & Space

Many people are surprised when they learn that well before the first landing of Apollo in 1969, we already understood the geological history of the Moon.  The idea that such a thing was even possible drew considerable skepticism during early preparations for landing on the Moon.  The principles for the remote mapping of the geology of the Moon came from several closely related but distinct threads.  Eugene M. Shoemaker, a geologist with the U. S. Geological Survey (USGS) who founded the Branch of Astrogeology, laid out the methodology in broad outline from and through the systematic study of lunar surface images in the early 1960s.

One of the basic principles of geology is that younger rocks lie on top of (or intrude into) older rocks.  Interestingly, this relationship can be discerned from a photograph.  In the case of the Moon, images show the dark smooth plains of the maria (lava) and the rough, cratered highlands.  Some craters were found on top of the dark mare plains, while others were filled with mare.  Clearly, the craters on top of the mare formed after those plains existed and were thus younger than the maria.  On the other hand, dark mare that fills a crater must have formed after that crater existed and so in this case, the crater was older.

By following these simple relations over large areas, it is possible to determine the relative ages of mare and craters, both among themselves and to each other.  But such information is trivial unless we can relate these individual ages to some unit or event of regional significance.  In principle, if such a relationship can be defined we can extend relative age assignments over large areas, ultimately on a global basis.

The first effort to map the geology of the Moon was by the USGS, but not by the then-newly created Astrogeology Branch.  Branch of Military Geology scientists Arnold Mason and Robert Hackman produced the “Engineer’s Special Study of the Moon” in 1960.  This special one-off product documented the principal terrain types of the Moon (maria and highlands) and ordered features into three categories of relative age: post-mare craters (youngest), maria, and highlands (oldest).  Additionally, the map showed the distribution of linear features, presumed to be faults (fractures along which movement has occurred), and mare ridges (presumed to be folds) over the near side.  In this sense, the Engineer Special Study was a geological map because it showed the spatial distribution of rock types, their relative ages, and the inferred structure of the lunar surface.  This map was accompanied by a detailed text chart, which showed a region-by-region evaluation of the terrain and construction challenges for each area.  But a critical element was still missing.

On Earth, the geologist recognizes the rocks in the field, maps their locations and orientation, and documents the structure of the area under study.  But a key part of this work is to figure out where a particular area fits in the global column of geologic units.  On Earth, by documenting the slow, gradual nature of geological processes the stratigraphic column was developed slowly over the course of about a hundred years.  The terrestrial stratigraphic column also provided key evidence needed to show the gradual transition of life forms from simple invertebrate organisms in the earliest rocks, to the complex and varied life forms in succeeding strata.  With the development of a global stratigraphic system and accompanying geologic time scale for the Earth, a framework for understanding the history and processes of the Earth was created.

Gene Shoemaker recognized the need for an organized stratigraphy to aid in our understanding of the Moon.  He wanted to understand the Moon’s evolution and age, but also to correlate events on the Moon with events in Earth history.  He recognized that a major step forward to such an end was to define a formal stratigraphic system for the Moon – a clear succession of rock types with key regional units defining the system boundaries.  He began mapping the area around the crater Copernicus, which lies on the central near side of the Moon, recognizing that the rocks exposed there (from what had been discerned from images) represented all the distinct phases of lunar history.

From Earth, a telescopic image of Copernicus and vicinity, showing how the relative ages of geological features are determined using the principle of superposition.
The basic sequence is easy to follow.  The oldest rocks (1) are those that form the highland units of the large, circular Imbrium impact basin.  These units are the mountains that make up the rim of the basin as well as the regional highlands around Copernicus, which are ejecta from the basin forming event.  Partial flooding by the dark, smooth maria followed (2), including both dark, ash-like materials and smooth flood-like plains (interpreted even then as flows of basalt, the most common volcanic rock type on Earth).  These eruptions were followed by the formation of impact craters, of which two kinds could be recognized:  an older group (3) that had slightly eroded and lost their bright rays (such as Eratosthenes) and a younger group (4) that preserved the bright rays and showed a fresh, unmodified form (such as Copernicus.)

Shoemaker used these rock units to define the lunar time-stratigraphic systems:  the Imbrian, Procellarian, Eratosthenian and Copernican Systems were each assigned to represent an archetypical deposition event.  Rocks that existed before the formation of the Imbrium basin were assigned to an informal category, the pre-Imbrian.  Thus, Shoemaker created a geologic map that not only showed the distribution of rock units and the structure of a given area, but also classified these rock types into a stratigraphic column for the Moon, one that (because of the enormous extent of the Imbrium basin) could be applied to areas across the lunar near side.  With slight modification (the “Procellarian” System is no longer used and the pre-Imbrian has been subdivided into the Nectarian System and pre-Nectarian), this classification scheme subsequently has been applied to the entire Moon.

Shoemaker’s work on geologic mapping of the Moon gave us the ability to immediately put the lunar samples returned by Apollo into a regional and global context.  We found that most lunar events occurred very early in its history, with intense geological activity in the first 1-2 billion years and little activity since.  Thus, the Moon’s geological record perfectly complemented that of the Earth, whose traces of earliest activity have been erased over time by the active processes of erosion and plate tectonics.

The first geologic quadrangle map of the Moon, showing rock units (basin, crater and mare materials), structures and their stratigraphic arrangement.
The 1960 Copernicus Prototype Chart LPC-58, the first true geological map of the Moon, was not formally published by the USGS, though a modified and updated version was published later in that decade.  By then, Gene had picked up a couple of co-authors for his effort, including one Harrison Hagan Schmitt (a young geologist with the USGS in the early 1960s), who in 1972 ultimately got the chance on the Apollo 17 mission to do what Gene Shoemaker originally got into the space business to do – check the interpretations of the remote lunar geologic mapping by doing field work on the Moon.

Click HERE to view Shoemaker’s LPC-58 geological map at full resolution.

Just publishedThe Clementine Atlas of the Moon, Revised Edition, an updated atlas and reference guide to lunar features, by Ben Bussey and yours truly.

Originally published at his Smithsonian Air & Space Magazine blog "The Once and Future Moon," Dr. Spudis is a senior staff scientist at the Lunar and Planetary Institute. The opinions expressed are those of the author and are better informed than average.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

How are places on the Moon named?

Map of the Moon by Grimaldi and Riccioli, 1651. Most of the names on this map are still in use today.
Paul D. Spudis
The Once & Future Moon
Smithsonian Air & Space

The Moon is remarkable for the variety and unusual nature of the names of its surface features.  The dark, smooth maria are named for weather or states of mind (Sea of Rains, Sea of Tranquility) while many of the abundant craters of the Moon are named for famous scientists, philosophers, mathematicians and explorers.  Before the advent of the space age, only the near side of the Moon was visible from Earth, although most scientists believed that the far side probably looked exactly like the facing one. (How wrong they were!)  Naturally, once we had the ability to see uncharted lunar territory, a new era of name assignment commenced.  But even now, many lunar craters and features await something more than mere coordinates.

The drawings of the Moon in 1610 by Galileo show craters and mountain ranges but he did not assign names to them.  As telescopes improved, revealing finer surface details, several maps appeared with names bestowed by their astronomer authors to flatter patrons or express their nationalism.  Most of those early names have been forgotten to history.  In 1651, an influential map by Jesuit astronomers Grimaldi and Riccioli became the foundation for the official naming reference guide that we use today.

With the flight of the Luna 3 probe in 1959, the Soviet Union was the first nation to image the far side of the Moon.  To the surprise of most, large regions of maria (so prominent on the near side) were mostly missing from the far side.  Although the first images were of very low quality, the Soviets couldn’t resist the urge to name newly discovered features for a variety of Russian heroes and place names, such as Tsiolkovsky and the Sea of Moscow.  Some new “features” were misidentified because of the low resolution – the name “Soviet Mountains” (no longer used) was given to a bright linear streak across the far side globe (a feature that turned out to be a long ray from the fresh crater Giordano Bruno and not a mountain range).

Over subsequent years, as both American and Soviet spacecraft filled in the far side coverage with increasingly higher quality images, most major far side craters received names of various scientists and engineers.   From around the world, a mixed bag of names were submitted to the International Astronomical Union (IAU – the body of scientists who authorize the names of planetary surface features) for consideration and approval.  Although some were historically significant, many were people with whom few were familiar.

Though NASA does not have the authority to assign names to features on the Moon, an informal practice of naming landmarks was common during the Apollo missions.  Names were given to the small craters and mountains near each landing site (e.g., Shorty, St. George, Stone Mountain) but official names were used as well (e.g., Hadley Rille).  NASA adopts informal names for the same reason that names are given to geographical features on Earth – as shorthand to refer to landmarks and other mapped features.  The most recent illustration of this practice occurred on December 17, 2012 when NASA named the location where the deliberately de-orbited GRAIL spacecraft crashed onto the Moon near the crater Goldschmidt (73°N, 4°W) the Sally K. Ride Impact Site.  Sally thus joins other women of science and note who have lunar features named for them – Hypatia, Caroline Herschel and Marie Curie, among others.  Most of the informal names assigned during Apollo were later given “official” status by the IAU.

The Apollo basin (a 540 km diameter crater on the southwestern far side) was named to honor the Apollo missions – the only crater on the Moon so designated.  Within a few years of their missions, smaller craters were named for the living crews of Apollo 8 (Borman, Lovell and Anders) and Apollo 11 (Armstrong, Aldrin and Collins).  Also located around the Apollo basin are craters named for deceased astronauts and NASA employees, including the lost crews of Apollo 1 and the lost crews of the final missions of the Challenger and Columbia Space Shuttles.  It is appropriate that some feature honors humanity’s first efforts to reach the Moon, as well as others who gave their lives pioneering space.  In a similar vein, craters near the poles of the Moon tend to be named for famous polar scientists and explorers, such as Nansen, Shackleton, and Amundsen.

Other than these exceptions, the location of specifically named craters has little rhyme or reason.  Neither scientific prominence nor contribution guarantees any crater-endowed immortality.  Copernicus and Archimedes are rightly honored with spectacular craters named for them.  But Galileo and Newton (titans in the history of science) are fobbed off with insignificant or barely detectable features.  One of the most prominent craters on the Moon is named for the astronomer Tycho Brahe, an eccentric who spent most of his career trying to validate a variant of the Earth-centered, Ptolemaic model of the Solar System (Ptolemy also has a prominent crater in the center of the near side named for him).  It’s not clear why Riccioli assigned the names he did to these craters, though he cannot be blamed for giving Newton short shrift, as the future Sir Isaac was only nine years old when the Grimaldi and Riccioli map was published.

It is possible to both suggest a name and to propose a crater for that name, though the IAU is not obliged to accept either.  Often, a suggested name is approved but assigned to a different crater.  Currently, the guidelines for submission and assignment of new names for lunar craters are: 1) a scientist or explorer who has made some significant contribution, preferably to the study of the Moon and planets; 2) deceased for at least three years before a crater name becomes official; 3) it cannot duplicate any existing lunar name.

In 2005, I proposed the name Ryder (to honor my colleague Graham Ryder, a lunar scientist who passed away in 2002) and suggested a small, bright crater on the far side to carry his name.  Both suggestions were adopted.  We have since found that Ryder crater is actually quite a geologically spectacular feature (Graham would be proud of his namesake).  In a truly singular event, the crater Shoemaker (named in 2000 and located near the south pole of the Moon) actually contains some of Gene Shoemaker’s remains – a small portion of his ashes was carried aboard the Lunar Prospector spacecraft in 1998.  At the conclusion of that mission, the vehicle was crashed into the south polar crater that was subsequently named for him.

We don’t know what the IAU will do concerning the designation of the Sally K. Ride Impact Site but as history suggests, granting of official status is not guaranteed.  No matter – we will continue to assign names to features as needed and the IAU will do what they do.  In the early 1970s, the IAU (by fiat) abolished the famous Mädler nomenclature system (wherein a small, nearby crater is given the name of a large neighbor plus a letter, such as Copernicus H).  Most working lunar scientists stubbornly refused to accept this decision and continued using the old crater names.  After 30 years of bureaucratic intractability, the IAU finally surrendered and formally adopted the Mädler system.

Official or not, with the passage of time, named lunar landmarks will become familiar to those visiting and working on our nearest neighbor.  Perhaps interesting monikers will be attached by those locals, as is done here on Earth when we assign nicknames to places – like the Big Apple, the Windy City, the Big Easy and the City by the Bay.

Just publishedThe Clementine Atlas of the Moon, Revised Edition, an updated atlas and reference guide to lunar features, by Ben Bussey and yours truly.

Originally published at his Smithsonian Air & Space Magazine blog "The Once and Future Moon," Dr. Spudis is a senior staff scientist at the Lunar and Planetary Institute. The opinions expressed are those of the author and are better informed than average.

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Priscilla & Alan & Delia & Harold, Four of a Kind

Evenly spaced craters stand out in the Catena Davy crater chain (11.0°S; 6.2°W). From a mosaic of both the left and right hand frames of LROC Narrow Angle Camera observation M181208790, LRO orbit 11818, from 96.21 kilometers on January 14, 2012; illumination incidence angle 66.11° from the west, resolution over a field of view approximately 6 kilometers across (in the original) 0.98 meters per pixel [NASA/GSFC/Arizona State University].
James Ashley
LROC News System

Many readers will remember the much publicized events of July 1994, when 21 ice fragments comprising Comet Shoemaker-Levy 9 impacted one after another with the atmosphere of Jupiter over a six-day period. Large, dark blotches were visible through backyard telescopes on the Jovian cloud tops for several months afterward. The largest impact produced energy estimated at six million megatons equivalent of trinitrotoluene (TNT).

What does comet Shoemaker-Levy 9 have to do with today's Featured Image?

Shoemaker-Levi 9 on May 17, 1994, discovered a year before widely-viewed sequential impacts on the upper atmosphere of Jupiter
Very high resolution image of a 242 meter-wide part of the north wall and rim of one of the four small craters of Catena Davy, 1.87 km-wide "Delia," during LRO's low altitude maneuvers over the near side of the Moon in 2011; spacecraft orbit 9928, August 17, 2011 (LROC NAC M168245384R). At 42 cm per pixel, from only 27.58 km, block material can be seen continuing to be slowly shed from the crater's very degraded rim, testifying to great age [NASA/GSFC/Arizona State University].
Two thirds of 1.87 km Delia crater, of Catena Davy, in a highly resampled 5000 lines from M168245384R. The rectangle designates the area of the north wall and rim above [NASA/GSFC/Arizona State University].
Names for these member craters of the Catena Davy chain, adopted by the International Astronomical Union in 1976. Full-width reduction of the LROC NAC observation M181208790. In Russian Doll fashion, the rectangle approximates the field of view shown immediately above, though from a later observation and a different angle of incidence [NASA/GSFC/Arizona State University].
The linear array of craters known to lunar scientists as Catena Davy on the Moon, a portion of which is shown above, is thought to have been produced by a Shoemaker-Levy 9-like string of objects traveling through space along identical orbits. Each object encountered the surface at slightly different times, produced by the objects' separation along the orbit. A small amount of lunar rotation as it moves around Earth through its own orbit results in an offset of each impact feature from its predecessor, producing a linear chain of impacts.

NASA Lunar Mapping and Modeling Program (LMMP) ILIADS application view shows the view from low orbit in the southwest over Catena Davy. The circle designates the four member craters in the LROC Featured Image [NASA/GSFC/Arizona State University].
As was seen with Shoemaker-Levy 9, a weakly held together planetary body (such as a comet or rubble pile asteroid), can be fragmented and separated by tidal forces if it comes within the Roche limit of a larger body, and drawn out into such a string of objects. Similar crater chains have been discovered on several moons of the outer planets where the gravity wells of these gas giants are sufficient to pull bodies apart in this way. What might have done this within the Inner Solar System, where planetary tidal forces are weaker? In the case of Catena Davy, where the impact craters rest "shoulder to shoulder," the impactors may have been pulled apart shortly before impact, and struck the Moon in a rapid-fire sequence of short duration, rather than having been widely separated and striking over time. What clues would you look for to improve our understanding of what actually happened?
Early LROC Wide Angle Camera (WAC) monochrome observation of a 48 km wide field of view, including Catena Davy. LROC WAC M119896473M, spacecraft orbit 2802, February 4, 2010; resolution 57 meters from 40.85 km [NASA/GSFC/Arizona State University].
The LROC Featured Image release contextual WAC mosaic showing Catena Davy in the context of a field of view about 120 km across [NASA/GSFC/Arizona State University].

Comet Shoemaker-Levy 9 awakened world interest in the possibility for asteroid and comet impacts on Earth in modern times, the last significant example of which occurred on June 30, 1908 near the Podkamennaya Tunguska river in Northern Russia. That air-burst meteoroid encounter leveled more than 2,000 square kilometers of forest, but no human life was lost because no humans were present in this remote corner of planet Earth. The situation would be very different if such an event occurred over a metropolitan area. While these encounters are infrequent, they do constitute a natural hazard, and should be taken as seriously as other natural hazards (e.g. earthquakes, tsunamis, tornadoes, hurricanes, etc.).

Most of the impact hazard risk is associated with single asteroid bodies, not cometary strings. Astronomers are currently conducting sky surveys to identify as many of these objects as possible, determine their orbital parameters, and find out if any are currently on a collision course with Earth. As with all natural hazards, future incidents are indeed certain if such precautions are not taken. Click HERE to open the NAC mosaic for this feature. Additional discussion on crater chains can be found in our Mare Orientale post from March 2010, where the cause is likely to be from secondary, not primary, impacts.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Passing of an Era

Neil Armstrong examines a sample from the Sierra Madera impact crater, west Texas during geology training for the Apollo program.

Paul Spudis
The Once & Future Moon
Smithsonian Air & Space


Because of his flying career and the life that he led, Neil Armstrong’s passing has many recounting his place in the history of spaceflight and remembering a life well lived.  He holds a special place in our hearts and a unique place in history – and he always will.

I met Neil Armstrong at a conference, an encounter I won’t forget.  A quiet, unassuming man of medium height and build, pleasant and genial, surrounded by a horde of admirers and well-wishers, I could tell he was slightly uncomfortable with (but resigned to) the adulation he received.  In his mind, the 1969 flight of Apollo 11 was simply another professional assignment he flew as a test pilot – the landing on the Moon was of more significance than his first step on it.  He was an aviator, in every sense of that word.  The landing was an accomplishment for humanity – a giant step for mankind.

My glimpses of Neil come not from personal encounters with him, but from others who knew him.  During a discussion several years ago with Dave Scott (Apollo astronaut and Commander of the 1971 Apollo 15 mission), I inquired about an obscure incident during the 1966 flight of Gemini 8 (flown by Neil and Dave).  That mission conducted the first docking of two spacecraft in space and I wanted to know some details of the emergency experienced by the crew on that flight.

The incident had occurred shortly after the docking, when the Gemini-Agena spacecraft began to roll slightly.  The rate of rotation became greater with time and it was evident that something was very wrong.  Neil, as commander, was responsible for “flying” the spacecraft but couldn’t get the rolling under control.  Thinking that the Agena (their unmanned target vehicle) was responsible, the crew made the decision to undock from it (they were out of contact with Mission Control at the time).  As soon as they did, the Gemini spacecraft started to roll and tumble at an ever increasing and alarming rate.  Dave recalled with a chuckle that Neil looked over at him, pointed at the attitude control stick and said “See if you can do anything with it!”  Dave’s recollection of their exchange gave me a glimpse of a very human moment in a life and death situation.  This was serious – if they couldn’t regain control, they would black out from the centrifugal forces in the tumbling vehicle.  Neil kept his cool, activated the re-entry thrusters and soon stabilized the bucking Gemini spacecraft.  The solution saved their lives but ended the mission, sending them home prematurely but safely.

The story of the first lunar landing is well known.  The automatic systems of the Apollo 11 Lunar Module Eagle were targeting the vehicle into a large crater filled with automobile-sized boulders.  Landing there would be disastrous, as the LM would likely topple over on touchdown, eliminating the crew’s ability to liftoff from the Moon and return home.  Taking manual control, Neil (with Mission Control advising the crew they had thirty seconds of fuel left) guided the LM over the hazardous debris field to a safe touchdown a few hundred meters beyond the original landing site.  Tension during the agonizingly long pause in the air-to-ground communications was palpable.  Relief could be heard in Capcom Charlie Duke’s voice as Neil calmly announced that the Eagle had landed.  Yet again, a critical situation expertly handled by a test pilot just doing his job – the calm and collected decision making necessary when flying finicky machines near the edges of their performance envelopes.

Neil’s scientific work on the Moon during his EVA warrants special mention.  Being the first humans to  land on another world, it is understandable that the crew had many ceremonial duties to perform.  Although they had been carefully instructed to stay close to the LM, without informing Mission Control, Neil walked back a hundred meters or so to Little West crater (overflown earlier) to examine and photograph its interior.  Those photos showed the basaltic bedrock of Tranquility Base – documenting that the Eagle had landed amidst ejecta from that crater thereby establishing the provenance of samples collected during the crew’s limited time on the surface.  According to Gene Shoemaker and Gordon Swann, both of the U.S. Geological Survey, Neil was one of the best students of geology among the Apollo astronauts.  Through his work on the Moon, he showed an ability beyond mere mastery of the facts of geology – he intuitively grasped its objectives, as well as the philosophy of the science.  Like every other facet of the mission, Neil understood and took this role seriously.  No matter what topic was addressed or which role was taken, he could always be counted on to turn in his best performance.

Armstrong understood the historic role of being the first man on the Moon but he never succumbed to the siren call of fame.  He could have cashed in on his status but choose a different path.  He was the quintessence of quiet dignity, possessing the “Aw shucks, t’weren’t nothin’” Gary Cooper-ish manner of understated heroism.  After retirement, he lived happily in his home state of Ohio, taught aeronautics (his first love) at the University of Cincinnati, and advised on various engineering topics and problems for both government and industry.  Throughout NASA’s post-Apollo efforts – without fanfare – he often and freely lent his efforts to the space program.  He served his country with honor and dignity.

As a test pilot, Neil routinely showed his ability to make quick, life saving decisions in dangerous situations.  As a senior spokesman for space, he clearly voiced his concern over the dismantling and destruction of our national space program.  Neil understood that our civil space program is a critical national asset, both as a technology innovator and a source of inspiration for the public.  Who would recognize this more clearly than Neil Armstrong?  From long experience, he knew what kinds of government programs worked and what kind didn’t.  He knew his fellow man.  In appearances before Congress in recent years, he outlined specific objections to our current direction in space.  A true patriot, Neil did not hesitate to voice his opinions, whether they aligned with current policy or not.

It’s become cliché to say that Neil Armstrong holds a unique place in history.  On this occasion, we should pause to consider just how singular his place is.  No one – not the first human to Mars nor the first crew to venture beyond the Solar System – will ever achieve the same level of significance as the first human to step onto the surface of another world.  The flight of Apollo 11 was truly a once in a lifetime event – and by that, I mean in the lifetime of humanity.  That first step was indeed one to “divide history,” as the NASA Public Affairs Office put it at the time.

Goodbye, Neil Armstrong – and thank you.  We’ve lost one of our most authoritative and articulate spokesmen for human spaceflight.  I mourn him and share his valid concerns for our dysfunctional national space program.

Originally published at his Smithsonian Air & Space blog The Once and Future Moon, Dr. Spudis is a senior staff scientist at the Lunar and Planetary Institute. The opinions expressed are those of the author and are better informed than average.

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Scooping the Soviets

Luna 9's view of the lunar surface, the "unauthorized" version [Jodrell Bank Observatory].
Paul D. Spudis
The Once and Future Moon
Smithsonian Air & Space
  
Sir Bernard Lovell, the former Director of Britain’s Jodrell Bank Radio Observatory, died recently at the age of 98.  Lovell took the lead in establishing Jodrell Bank near Manchester – one of the world’s premier radio telescopes, a facility that played a lead part in the history of the early space age.  One of its most memorable episodes was its role in releasing the world’s first images taken from the surface of the Moon.

In late January 1966, the USSR launched the probe Luna 9 to the Moon.  The Soviets had tried to soft-land a spacecraft on the Moon several times previously.  Each attempt ended in failure.  The United States had the Surveyor project under development, but it had yet to see its first launch.  As was their custom, Jodrell Bank tracked the Luna 9 during its coast to the Moon, listening in on its telemetry signals and documenting the position and velocity of the probe throughout its flight.  On February 3, 1966, with an encounter speed of 6 meters/second (about 13 mph), the probe “crash-landed” on the lunar surface.  Signal transmission from the probe stopped abruptly.  The team at Jodrell Bank assumed that the mission was over, surmising that Luna 9 probably hit the Moon too hard or was designed as a crash lander.  Then to their astonishment, the probe began transmitting radio signals and the observatory recorded them, uncertain as to their meaning.

Lovell thought – suppose these signals were simply an ordinary telefax communication?  If these transmissions were pictures of the lunar surface, perhaps the signals the observatory recorded could be read by a commercial facsimile machine.  But Jodrell Bank Observatory had no such machine; the observatory was a scientific laboratory, which in those days displayed its received radio signals in the form of line graphs made by paper strip recorders.

Enter the power of the press!  The local office of the London Daily Express rushed a fax machine to the observatory where Lovell and his staff printed out the first picture of another planetary surface ever returned to Earth.  Because the staff of the observatory didn’t know anything about Luna 9’s encoding system design, they had to guess at the ratio of the horizontal to vertical dimensions of the image.  They guessed wrong.  The resulting image showed a jagged, rough peak-like surface, although apparently fine-grained. To both the chagrin and annoyance of the Soviet builders of Luna 9, surface images were released to the world press by the British observatory, leading to an amusing sequence of scientific “instant interpretation” that appeared in the press over the days that followed.

In the early days of lunar science, an intense debate raged over the geologic nature of the Moon.  Was it a cold, ancient body that had never undergone melting?  Chemist Harold Urey and Astronomer Thomas Gold thought so.  They postulated that the Moon was a giant, primitive chondrite meteorite, an unmodified piece of the early solar nebula that would tell us about the cold accretion of the planets.  Additionally, Gold was famous for his idea that the dark maria of the Moon were large “dustbowls” in which a heavy spacecraft would slowly sink like a body caught in quicksand on the Earth.

In contrast, many geologists and some astronomers thought otherwise – in their view, the Moon was a body shaped by internal melting, magmatic activity and volcanic eruptions.  These “hot moon” people saw evidence for volcanism in many lunar surface features, from the maria to craters.  Some, such as the founder of the field of planetary geology, Eugene Shoemaker, had a more nuanced viewpoint, ascribing both impact and volcanic origins to specific features, as appropriate.  Although the hard landing American Ranger spacecraft had transmitted high resolution video pictures before hitting the Moon, it did not survive the lunar impact and no one had seen a picture of the surface from a vehicle that landed softly enough to survive and long enough to send back a picture, until now.

A cascade of instant science followed the release of the Jodrell Bank images. Tommy Gold claimed that the pictures validated his dust bowl idea, even though it showed a fine-grained surface strewn with rocks (which Gold thought were clods of fine dust).  Gold also said that the Luna 9 capsule was slowly sinking into the surface (in accordance with his model, of course) and would soon sink out of sight.  Gerard Kuiper of the University of Arizona thought that the surface of the Moon was composed of bare, dust-free bedrock and so interpreted the new Luna 9 images thusly.  U.S. Geological Survey geologist Hal Masursky said that the image looked like the rough, clinkery surface of a jagged lava flow (a surface for which geologists give the Hawaiian name “aa”) and was clearly of volcanic origin.  An eager reporter pressed him:  this surface is volcanic – isn’t that where gold is sometimes found on Earth?  Hal distractedly nodded agreement, leading to the ludicrous headline that Luna 9 had found veins of gold on the Moon.

Alas, there was gold — scientific gold.  The distortion of the image caused by a wrong guess of the aspect ratio by the staff of Jodrell Bank soon was corrected when the Soviets released their own version of the image.  The lunar surface consists of fine-grained dust, smooth and undulating (because of the presence of a myriad of small surface craters), with the occasional rock lying about — no dust bowls, no bare bedrock, no “quicksand,” no aa lava flows, and no veins of gold.  The disappointment of the press was palpable.

The tendency of scientists to see confirmation of their own predispositions in the new data is striking.  We all are human, possessing the natural inclination to interpret new data in a way most favorable to our own long-held beliefs.  In this instance, a simple and excusable error in the reconstruction of the surface image led to abundant egg on the faces of most of the world’s experts on lunar science.  Instant science is often wrong at worst or incomplete at best.

Originally published at his Smithsonian Air & Space blog The Once and Future Moon, Dr. Spudis is a senior staff scientist at the Lunar and Planetary Institute. The opinions expressed are those of the author and are better informed than average.

Related Post:
"Boy that sure looks like Luna 9!" (December 3, 2011)

Thursday, July 21, 2011

G. Jeffrey Taylor receives Shoemaker Award

NLSI - G. Jeffrey Taylor received the Shoemaker Distinguished Lunar Scientist Award at the 2011 Lunar Science Forum. Taylor, a planetary science Professor in the Hawai'i Institute of Geophysics & Planetology, University of Hawai'i (Manoa), specializes in planetary volcanology, igneous processes and extraterrestrial materials. Taylor uses a combination of petrology, geochemistry, field observations and remote sensing and theory to address problems in planetary science.

“In view of his many fundamental and far-reaching contributions to lunar science and his leadership efforts such as serving as the founding director of the Lunar Exploration Analysis Group, Dr. Taylor is exceptionally deserving of this medal,” said Yvonne Pendleton, director of the NASA Lunar Science Institute. “We are proud to present him with this honor.”

The Shoemaker Distinguished Lunar Scientist Award is an annual award given to a scientist who has significantly contributed to the field of Lunar Science throughout the course of their scientific career. The first Distinguished Lunar Scientist Award was given posthumously to Dr. Gene Shoemaker and presented to his wife Carolyn for his many contributions to the lunar geological sciences. The award was subsequently named after Dr. Shoemaker and includes a medal with the Shakespearian quote “And he will make the face of heaven so fine, that all the world will be in love with night.” Last year’s Shoemaker award was presented to Don E. Wilhelms.


Read the full NLSI Release HERE.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Relative age relationships


A wrinkle ridge cross-cuts and deforms an impact crater in northeast Mare Imbrium. The deformed impact crater is about 330 meters in diameter, LROC Narrow Angle Camera (NAC) observation M104540211RE, LRO orbit 565, August 10, 2009; image field of view is 1.7 kilometers. See the full-sized LROC Featured Image, HERE [NASA/GSFC/Arizona State University].

Lillian Ostrach
LROC News System

Relative age relationships are key to unraveling the geologic history of the Moon. Relative ages reveal the order of geologic events without knowledge of their absolute age. Usually relative ages are determined by the stratigraphic relationships of geologic features - what is on top and what is below.

Stratigraphy is not simply the study of rock layers and layering, it provides geologists with the tool to determine age relations locally, and in some cases globally. Gene Shoemaker and Robert Hackman used some ingenious thinking to describe key stratigraphic markers throughout the Moon's geologic history. But you don't have to be a lunar geologist to understand the significance of stratigraphic relationships. The most obvious stratigraphic relationships on the Moon are the mare basalts embaying (or covering) the older highland terrain.

Sometimes it takes a bit of searching to find clear stratigraphic relationships at the high resolution of the LROC NAC images. Today's Featured Image provides an example of a clear age relation, where an impact crater is cross-cut and deformed by a wrinkle ridge. The deformation of this crater took place in the north-south direction, and distorts the crater from a circular shape to ellipse. Its diameter is ~330 m measured east to west, and in the north-south direction, the crater is only ~300 m wide.


LROC Wide Angle Camera (WAC) monochrome mosaic showing the wrinkle ridge in Mare Imbrium. Although the landscape looks smooth and uniform from Earth, and even at this scale, the LROC Featured Image released July 12 demonstrates otherwise! The asterisk denotes the location of that NAC close-up and the deformed impact crater. See the full-sized LROC context image HERE [NASA/GSFC/Arizona State University].

These observations help us construct a plausible geologic story for this small area. First, the mare basalts erupted and cooled, then the impact crater formed. At some point after the impact event, the wrinkle ridge deformed the crater. However, much time has passed since the impact event, because the crater has no high-reflectance ejecta rays, its walls are smooth, and there are only a few boulders. Alternatively, very little to no time may have passed between crater formation and wrinkle ridge formation because the wrinkle ridge is smooth and also has only a few boulders. So, while parts of the relative age story can be clearly inferred, some details are tricky to fully unravel.

Furthermore, how does the bouldery crater adjacent to the deformed crater fit into this story? There are several options based on the appearance of both craters, but the easiest explanation is that these craters formed at slightly different geologic times because although their rims are rounded and smooth and the craters do not not have ejecta rays, they do have different concentrations of exposed boulders. But why does this adjacent crater have so many more boulders? Boulders are usually formed by impact into a coherent rock layer (e.g., the impact exposes and fractures bedrock). Since the mare regolith is probably only a few meters deep at most, these ~300 m diameter craters would have punched through the regolith layer to expose bedrock. If the two craters are the same age, they should have similar boulder concentrations, but if they are not the same age, we can devise a different geologic story. If we assume that the deformed crater is older than its neighbor, we would expect that the deformed crater would be more eroded. If the neighboring, bouldery crater is younger, then perhaps the boulders surrounding this crater have not had enough time to be worn away by continuous micrometeorite bombardment.

What do you think? Observe the full LROC NAC image and decide whether you can come up with a better geologic story!

Related posts:
Fault scarp with impact melt in King crater
Rupes Recta
Wrinkled Planet
Forked wrinkle ridge