March for Science: Dean's Day in DC

[Click any image to embiggen.] The forecast for the day called for rain, and left little room for doubt. I packed a rain jacket and rain pants (in the event of sideways-driven torrents). I packed an umbrella in case the rain remained vertical. I also covered exposed skin with sunscreen and packed a floppy hat in case the forecast was defied by reality. I wore heavy-weather shoes and thick wool socks. I packed a fleece as the forecast high was in the upper 50s. I knew I was going to be in the elements for the day. I wasn't go to bail no matter what. And I didn't want to be too uncomfortable.

But in the morning, the weather was still fairly mellow, so I was able to expose my custom T-shirt.

I walked the mile and a half from my hotel to Pershing Park, where I was told representatives of the AAPT would be found. DC bustles on weekdays, but can be a ghost town early on a Saturday morning. I grabbed some breakfast at a bakery/cafe that was doing a brisk business with science marchers.

I found some familiar faces (Dan Brown and Rebecca Vierra) at Pershing Park; AAPT Director, Beth Cunningham quickly joined, as did some Society of Physics Students (SPS) enthusiasts. A retired chemistry instructor showed up in his rainbow tie-dyed lab coat, so I hauled mine out of my pack and matched his look. We socialized and snapped pics for a while before making our way to the rally at the Washington Monument.

We knew we were headed in the right direction as we followed these two brainiacs.


We settled in some distance from the main stage, but with a nice view of a massive screen (atop a truck).

At 10 o'clock, the program began. Veritasium's Derek Muller, Cara Santa Maria, and The Roots' Questlove acted as masters of ceremony. A precipitous mist turned into sprinkles as the program continued. The rainbow lab coat was stowed, and my rain jacket was deployed.

Speakers, music performances, and short films ensued. The rain picked up. It continued in waves. When it got heavy enough, my maize & blue Michigan umbrella was raised. Umbrellas were ubiquitous throughout the crowd. But you feel bad when packed this tight while using one. It blocks views and sheds water on your neighbors.

Four hours of rallying would have to pass before the march was to proceed. Scientists were celebrated, a call and response of "I say 'public' you say 'health'" was launched.

The rain never really stopped. When the wind reached a certain persistence, I undertook a pit-crew donning of my fleece between my t-shirt and the rain jacket. Had it not been such a tight pack where I was, I would have tried to put on my rain pants over the quick-drying trail pants I was wearing.

Near the end, we got a call to action from Bill Nye, himself.



And an Earth Day tweet from... not Donald J. Trump, but from Pope Francis.


Then it was off to the march. We slowly cattle-herded our way out of the secured Washington Monument grounds to Constitution Avenue and marched to the US Capitol.

From time to time, an enthusiastic roar would make its way through the marchers. And there were chants.

"Show me what a scientist looks like : THIS IS WHAT A SCIENTIST LOOKS LIKE!"

"Science--not hate--makes America great!"



The sprit was great and the energy was positive. The signs were very clever and were all spelled correctly. Hbar vs. FUBAR, Show us your taxa!"

I stopped for a requisite US Capitol selfie.

At march's end, marchers laid down their signs along the walkway and fence leading to the Capitol: the impromptu sign graveyard blossomed and grew as more and more marchers finish the route. The rain had taken a toll on most of the signs, and the wind added entropy to the otherwise carefully placed placards.



Snake Oil Trump will haunt my dreams for nights to come.


At the end of the day, there was no way to navigate around the reality that science is under attack in the US from the Republicans who hold the presidency and majorities in the Senate and House of Representatives. It is likely that they will do significant damage to science and the environment as rapidly as they can. It is unlikely that they will change. We cannot nourish a hope that the attack will relent while the GOP maintains unbridled governmental power.

If scientist hope to get work done in the lab, they will need to get work done at the ballot box first.

I'm glad I was able to be in DC for the March on Science. I have more photos in my Flickr album and more videos on my YouTube channel.

March for Science Photos:

Bungee Jump Physics Extravaganza!

I hate to overstate the case, but this activity is a whole lotta physics going on. Terms such as "Wow," and Bidenisms like "Literally over the top" come to mind.

In July, I jumped off a bridge. On purpose. In Africa.

A video was recorded.

Victoria Phyz Falls



Physics happened, and I was keen to exploit the event as an analytical assignment for my students. Because that's how I roll.

But such exploitation was not a trivial affair. I undertook the jump as a tourist about as far from home as I could be on the surface of the Earth. Deep in the midst of a month-long African wildlife photo safari detailed on The Treks of Phyz blog. Not as a physics teacher at a nearby amusement park loaded up with sensors and synchronized high-speed videography gear.

So hard data was limited. Easily measurable quantities on the captured video were limited. Quantitative information from the vendor proved… unreliable (See the "All the Facts" tab here).

What follows at the link below is a six-page student activity that could be assigned as homework or completed as a "video lab" in class. As always when working with a YouTube video, I recommend downloading ("ripping") the video first. As a Mac user, I then use QuickTime to trim and study the video.

A shorter YouTube Baird Bungee video can be found here.

The lesson engages issues including force and motion, Hooke's law, conservation of energy, and simple harmonic motion, among other things. There's qualitative analysis, verbal interpretation, graphing, direct measurement from video, and robust quantitative analysis.

In short—there is no "short": This thing is a beast.

I felt compelled to ask for a consult from Dan Burns, AP Physics C master teacher, YouTube sensation, general brainiac, and a maestro of mechanics. To suggest he is the Maxwell to my Faraday inflates my stature more than it does his. He was kind enough to give it a very thorough going-over. Many thanks, indeed, Dan!

Dan's analytical approach differed from mine, but we ended up with the same answers. And we both recognized some sticky issues incumbent in the quantitative analysis of such a data-poor problem.

But enough of my jibber-jabber. The whole kit and kaboodle is available here (answer key included—that's the kaboodle).

Victoria Phyz Falls @ TPT.

Enjoy!

The Great American Eclipse of 2017

Start making your plans now!

Great American Eclipse


The Great American Eclipse of 2017 from Michael Zeiler on Vimeo.

I was bound to do this

So there I was at Victoria Falls, on the border between Zimbabwe and Zambia. The Victoria Falls Bridge spans a gorge through which the Zambezi river runs, post falls. We are told the deck of the bridge is 135 meters above the water.

At the midpoint of the bridge there is a low-slung hut through which bungee jumpers are fitted with harnesses and pushed over a precipice. We are told the bungee jumpers plummet 111 meters, though it seems the mileage would vary from one jumper to the next, depending on weight.

I'm much too bashful to reveal my weight, but the bungee operators wrote 111 on my arm after having me stand on a scale. Oh yeah, I signed up for this jump. I teach physics! I was bound to do this.

They harness you quite thoroughly, and cinch your lower calves to each other and attach them to the bungee cord with five carabiners. I was bound to do this.

They help you waddle out over the lip of the diving platform. Then it's "5-4-3-2-1-BUNGEE!" and off you go, into the gorge. But enough jibber-jabber. Let's roll the film.

Victoria Phyz Falls


Was I ever really in danger? As it turns out, yes I was. This very jump dropped an Australian woman into the Zambezi a few years back.

Aussie Tourist's Bungee Cord Snaps


I really only put myself at risk like this so that Dan Burns could generate some nice, personalized physics problems, if he is so inclined. If you think of some, leave them in the comments or email them to me.

Did I mention that I jumped off a bridge?

Iceland observations - independence and isolation

Ski week is a dangerous time for me. I rarely do much traveling, and that leaves me idle to search out summer travel opportunities. This year I found a photographer trip to Iceland offered by Andy Long of First Light Tours.

Iceland is known as a wonderland to landscape and nature photographers. It had been on my list for some time. I wanted to go, but I wanted to go with photographers. The First Light trip was a match, so I proceeded to book it.

Andy Long is a Colorado-based nature photographer who runs a variety of destination workshops every year. He partnered with Michael Kissane of f-Stop Tours in Iceland. Kissane was born and raised in St. Louis, but has lived in Iceland for several years. He's even fluent in Icelandic, and that's no mean feat.

The photo tour was June 24-July 2. I scheduled two additional nights in Reykjavik to extend my stay.

The forecast for Iceland was for temperatures in the 45°F–55°F, overcast with rain. I geared up and packed appropriately. David duChemin's observations in Iceland: A Monograph (iPad app) compelled me to upgrade my tripod. I did a bit of preparatory studying with Insight Guides' Iceland and Profilm's Iceland's Favorite Places.

The journey to Iceland was eventful due to less than professional performance by Delta Airlines. An FAA-imposed weather delay somehow resulted in a loss of my booked seat on the NY to Reykjavik leg of the trip. I'm sure I was supposed to count my lucky stars that I was able to score a bulkhead middle seat in place of the window seat I booked months earlier.

Upon arrival in Iceland, the group (6 photographers and 2 guides) was assembled and whisked off to Gardskaga, our initial shooting location. We got some bird shots, a couple of landscapes and a trip to the Seltún geothermal site in before dinner and rest in Reykjavik. This time of year the sun goes down at midnight and rises at 3am in Iceland. The sky goes somewhat dim, but never dark.

On Day 2, we journeyed north to Hraunfoss (Lava Falls) and Barnafoss (Children's Falls) (yeah, there's an unhappy story that goes with that name). before bedding down in Borgarnes.

On Day 3 day we hopped a ferry to Flatey (Flat Island) out in the Breiðafjörður Fjord. We spent our time on the island shooting birds and a bit of architecture. We returned and made our way to Arnarstapi for terns, fulmars, and a stone cold giant.

On Day 4 we headed for Þingvellir, a site of Icelandic historical significance and where you can straddle two continental plates (North American and Eurasian). From there, it was off to Geysir to take a shot at Strokkur geyser's pre-eruption hot water dome. Yellowstone has a better concentration of wild geothermal features, but I've never seen a geyser erupt like this one. Next was the thunder and mist Gullfoss (Gold Falls). We also took in a curious red-rock crater lake.

On Day 5 we spent some time in chilly solitude at the nicely appointed Flói Nature Reserve before stopping at Selfoss for lunch supplies and Sirius Konsum chocolate. Then it was off to Seljalandsfoss, an delicate, isolated, but popular waterfall. A slick, rocky, muddy, wet trail led around to the back side of the falls. Keeping gear dry and legs underneath were challenges, but image potential was great. Then to Skogafoss, a broader, louder, more popular falls. Then to Vík and Black Beach.

On Day 6 we got some morning puffin shots, then it was in to Jökulsárlón, a glacial lagoon. This was a treasure of great wonder; it was like a dynamic Bryce Canyon. More blue than red, but also in motion. We toured the lagoon in an open-air amphibious waterbus. Later we had a hay-wagon ride six kilometers across a tidal flat to Ingólfshöfði, a reserve that is home to great skua, razorbills, and puffins.

On Day 7 we went to Skaftafell National Park. We were able to hike out to the toe of Skaftafellsjökull. It was a nice trail through moss-covered rocky terrain. We missed Svartifoss somehow. I don't remember why.

On Day 8 we headed back to Reykjavik, retracing our route along the southern segment of Iceland's Ring Road and stopping here and there for pictures, lunch, and chocolate.

On Day 9 the photographer tour was over, but I stayed behind to wander the streets of the city. I got some nice architecture and graffiti shots.

On Day 10, I toured Þórsmörk with an small group and a local guide with a SuperJeep. It was nice to work up into the interior a bit. More of a nature tour than a treasure-trove of photo-ops.

Day 11 it was back to the US, California, and Sacramento. I saw a lot of Iceland and was lucky to have knowledgable guides. But I often felt a bit rushed (because I am, by nature, slow and deliberate). I'm sure the others considered me an impossible slow-poke daudler forever holding up the program.

I'd love to get back to Iceland; I feel like I missed more than I saw. I missed the Bare Landscapes fine art photography gallery exhibition by a few days.

My Iceland finalists photo album is on Flickr.

In Iceland!

Photostream here.

Circumhorizontal arc at Angel's Landing

My brother, his wife, and I were hiking the strenuous and perilous Angel's Landing trail in Zion National Park earlier this week.

Physics lessons abound in work (elevation gain is 1500 ft), friction (footing), tension (chains), equilibrium (precarious balance), etc. But after returning from Angel's Landing to Scout Lookout, my brother directed my attention to a spectrum in the cirrus clouds above.

I had never seen such a color band in the sky. It was clearly the interaction of sunlight and cirrus cloud ice crystals. But it was at a much greater angle from the sun than the oft-seen 22° halo. The colors were spread wider and were more deeply saturated.

Upon returning to the connected world (which is a small world, indeed, when you're at the mercy of AT&T), I googled "cirrus cloud rainbow" and discovered that what we were seeing was a circumhorizontal arc (CHA).

A circumhorizontal arc lies 46° from the sun and is observed only when and where the sun is more than 58° above the horizon. We get more of them in the States than they do in Europe.

The heart of CHA optics is the hexagonal ice crystal. For CHA, we need plates rather than rods. Sunlight enters a vertical side (rectangular) face and exits the bottom (hexagonal) face.

Of course, the different colors in the sunlight are refracted by different amounts. The dispersion of colors is fairly wide in CHA.

For more images of this atmospheric grooviness, you can check out this filtered gallery, or image-search "circumhorizntal arc." (Remember that an image-search will give you many results that are incorrectly tagged.) My favorite CHA image is the "fire rainbow" photograph taken near the Idaho/Washington border some years ago. It caused enough of a stir to get its own Snopes article!

My travel shots and landscapes from the trip are here.

Arizona 2009 Google Map

My first time tinkering with a customized Google Map. My advice? Zoom out (-) until you see the markers.
View Arizona 2009 Roadtrip in a larger map

Galápagos: photos are up

http://phyz.smugmug.com/Travel

UPDATE: Galápagos TAA3 Meta Photolinks
Names, screen names, and online album links for cruisers on The Amazing Adventure 3.

Las Vegas after dark

When TAM6 closed on Sunday, June 22, I promptly took a nap.

After that, I joined some JREF friends for dinner at The Peppermill. At midnight, I ventured out for a photoshoot. By then the temperature had dipped below the century mark, though the wind and the dry were in full force.

I loaded up my shooting vest, grabbed my travel tripod, and hit The Strip. I shot until about 3am and hardly made a dent in the huge tracts of land occupied by The Strip. But I caught a few keepers. And now have finally posted them on SmugMug.

Las Vegas Lights

Enjoy!

What every air freshener wishes it could be

The posts regarding my roadtrip to the Edmonton AAPT meeting (via Yellowstone, Glacier, Banff, Jasper, Glacier again, and the Grand Tetons) may appear to come at random. That's only because they are.

First up is the air at Glacier National Park. I drove long ways to get there (on the way up and on the way back down). So I arrived after dark both times. When I pulled into the parking lot at the Rising Sun Motor Inn in a hurry to register, I was stopped in my tracks (both times!) upon the first breath of Glacier air. The fragrance is a powerful blend of natural wildflowers. It grabs you and says, "Do you know where you are, buddy? Slow it down, take a breath, and appreciate."

I gladly obeyed. Since I couldn't take in the scenery at the moment (sun being down and all), Iooked up and enjoyed the stunning night sky: an astronomer's paradise! I then slowly made my way to the registration desk five minutes before they closed.

But yeah, the air at Glacier is what every air freshener wishes it could be. Go to Glacier and smell it for yourself!

And while you're there, don't forget to at least drive the Going-to-the-Sun Road and stop for pics where you can. Turn it up a notch with a hike to Hidden Lake if the trail is passable. It was a bit too snow-covered for my liking when I had a moment to hike it last week. The loaded shooting vest makes snow-field crossings awkward.

Stay longer and hit some of the myriad trails throughout the park. But bring your bear bells. They aren't simply a cute novelty at Glacier. The glaciers may have retreated, but the bears have not.

If you really want to crank up your experience, you can be like my rockstar niece, Zoe, who's spending time this summer at Glacier doing the heavy lifting involved in clearing and maintaining the trails, among other things.

In any case, be sure to take a meal at the Park Cafe in St. Mary.

Roadtripping to Edmonton

The journey to the American Association of Physics Teachers Summer Meeting in Edmonton began today. The meeting doesn't begin until next Saturday, but I decided to make a roadtrip of the journey so as to have stops in some of my favorite spaces on the way out and back.

Day 1 is always the trip from Sacramento to Salt Lake City, so there wasn't much to shoot. I did take a circulation break at the Salt Flats rest stop to walk up and down the ramp to the "lookout."

The Roadtrip Album is beginning here. I'm about 1/5 up to speed on using Aperture, Apple's high-end photo software. So bear with me as I try to keep things updated!

UPDATE 1: Added images from Yellowstone Day 1 (of only 2): Gibbon Falls, Virginia Cascades, Fountain Paint Pots, Clepsydra Geyser, and the Terraces of Great Fountain Geyser. Thrown in for good measure: a log, some lupines, two runoff stream snags.

OT2: Everyone's an Ansel

In one of his comic tales, storyteller Kevin Kling recalled the living room of his childhood. In regard to TV viewing, "there was the one good seat, and every other seat was a lesser seat." And so it is at Yosemite's Tunnel View during a clearing winter storm. Every owner of a tripod in that row has seen this classic Ansel Adams image and wants to catch one for himself. And I use the term "himself" intentionally. Crowds like this do seem to require a y-chromosome for admission.

OK, I confess I'm just bitter over having lost to these guys for "the one good seat." But I was down at Valley View before racing up the hill to Tunnel View. (And I, erm, might have misrepresented the powertrain-related traction characteristics of the PhyzVan to the park ranger screening motorists at the bottom of the road to Tunnel View; he was checking for chains or 4WD.) Anyway, my non-zero rest mass probits me from being in more than one photo-shooting location at a time. Darned non-zero rest mass. Tomorrow I start my diet.

OT: On a fool's errand in Yosemite

It's ski week and I was looking for a way to forestall whatever chores I should be tending to. So when I noticed that a winter storm was making its way to the Golden State, I booked a stay at Yosemite. I'm keen to get a decent shot or two of the park dressed in winter. Or at least to practice getting such a shot.

I motored in today and, well, the good news is that the door to the park was open. Mostly sunny and warm as I arrived. The weather is running a bit late, but it's supposed to be coming in tomorrow. We'll see.

For now, I've posted some preview shots to this album. Notice the lack of snow and the drama-free sky. But it's the Sierra in winter. Things could change dramatically.

UPDATE: Early morning rain turned to snow. Heavy and wet, but snow nonetheless. Since it's my first rodeo, I bobbed and weaved in an attempt to get something. At one point, the valley road was chain-restricted! I posted some new previews for your enjoyment. Now I just need the weather to clear in a reasonable fashion so I can get some sun on the snow and make a clean escape.