May 23, 2007, HiRISE release |
May 23, 2007, HiRISE release |
Guest_AlexBlackwell_* |
May 23 2007, 04:01 PM
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Guests |
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May 27 2007, 11:38 AM
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Founder Group: Chairman Posts: 14434 Joined: 8-February 04 Member No.: 1 |
I doubt it's wind through the lava tube itself. Think of a crater - that can have a dust tail of some sort and there's no network to do that. I imagine it's just a function of prevailing wind and topography. Wind blowing over a lage flat area suddently finding a big hole is going to get chucked up a bit - you might even find that the area under the hole is at a slight negative pressure relative to the surrounding area because of it.
Another thought - given that this tube is beginning to collapse at this one obvious site and potentially many others, it's quite likely that the tube itself isn't much of a tube anymore and more like a range of adjacant chambers. Who knows...I can't imagine we will for a few decades. Doug |
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May 27 2007, 03:13 PM
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The Poet Dude Group: Moderator Posts: 5551 Joined: 15-March 04 From: Kendal, Cumbria, UK Member No.: 60 |
... it's quite likely that the tube itself isn't much of a tube anymore and more like a range of adjacant chambers. Who knows...I can't imagine we will for a few decades. True... but fun to imagine... HOLE TRUTH Look at that beckoning circle of black. Darker than a dying shark’s eye, a hole cut out of Mars’ ancient hide revealing – nothing. Nothing At All. No light falls on the far-below floor; this is not a doorway but a pit and deep inside it secrets lie in wait. No world beneath is glimpsed through this perfectly-punched puncture in the planet’s brittle crust; just more black, more emptiness, a lack of everything is all we see beneath this round-rimmed void. It’s as if one of Sax’s laser beams screamed from the salmon sky and bored into Barsoom right here, cauterising the wounded, light-seared land… but more likely a giant’s hand of a meteor smashed through the stone to the underworld below, where no sol-light has ever shone and millennia of darkness have passed in cold, silt-softened silence. Once lava, scarlet as Sauron’s eye ran under here in smoking smears; for years red and orange rocky vomit belched through countless corridors of heat-and light- baked stone yet this one alone has been revealed, its shielding ceiling stabbed through by who knows what. All we know is that all are cold now, weaving and meandering beneath these badlands like dust-clogged arteries running through a mummy’s corpse. If I stood shaking on its crumbling ledge, daring to gaze o’er the edge of this abyss, what blissful wonders would I see? With my torch beam slicing through the gloom would I swoon at the sight of stalactites jabbing down like serpents teeth from the ground beneath my feet? Or on the shadowed floor far far below would my sweeping light ray show a carpet of pastel-paint hued life? Enough streaks and plumes of green and blue to make some cry “I KNEW it!” Or would a Balrog’s fetid breath blow over me before I felt its flaming whip grip my ankle and drag me to my doom..? © Stuart Atkinson 2007 -------------------- |
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