Pluto’s Colorful, Scaly Terrain Revealed in Detailed Closeups
The more we see of Pluto, the more stunning it gets – and that’s not because we understand what’s going on. It’s the opposite. Rather than neatly fitting pieces into a big, Pluto-shaped puzzle, NASA’s New Horizons spacecraft is returning data that make it clear just how unbelievably enigmatic this little world is.
That’s why exploring Pluto is so fun.
Images released today are among the most beautifully bizarre we’ve seen so far. There’s a rough, scalloped texture that team members say resembles “dragon scales” or “tree bark,” and this thing that looks like a fossilized brittle star; craters that appear as though they’re filled with pasta sauce; pits that resemble the cantaloupe terrain on Neptune’s moon Triton; long, sinuous canyons that are ruddy in their depths and bright at their rims; and extremely colorful landscapes that make it look as though Pluto’s mountains are bleeding.
How that all works, we don’t know – but if space exploration and planetary science were easy, it would be nowhere near as rewarding.
Understanding Pluto is a lot like climbing a mountain: The satisfaction comes from the struggle it takes to reach the peak. After all, no one writes home about simply driving to a summit — the views might be the same, but the sense of achievement? Not even remotely similar.
Earlier this year, I climbed Kilimanjaro for the first time, and last night, I got back from a few too-short days in the Canadian Rockies. There, bare slabs of rock erupt from tree-covered valleys, their ancient layers outlined by a fresh frosting of snow. Lakes tucked into canyons slowly collect the silty slough of glaciers and snowpack, which turn frigid water into brilliant, unearthly shades of green and blue.
Landscapes like this exert an almost irresistible pull on me. I want to know what it’s like to charge up those slopes and slip through those trees, to meet the boundary where that evergreen carpet lost its battle with gravity, and then to continue going, to tiptoe up to alpine shorelines, trek through alien landscapes and ogle the myriad ways nature sculpts Earth’s stones into craggy gargoyles.
For me, reaching a summit isn’t the sole motivation for a climb; in fact, on the highest mountains, lingering at the top is downright dangerous. On lower peaks, summits can be nice places to rest and enjoy the view, clouds permitting, but they’re merely markers signifying the end of a particular route (and descents can be more punishing, in many ways).
The tug, for me, comes from the struggle of the journey, in the breathless effort it takes to continue climbing higher and higher, step after burning step. It’s in the challenge of billy-goating through tricky passes and surviving slippery trails, in finding the path through the scree and in putting training and skills to the test.
It’s the same with figuring out Pluto. You have to love the uncertainty and the challenge, accept the questions and mysteries. As images of Pluto come back to Earth, the fun is not in foolproof explanations for how a particular feature came to be, but in the thrill of seeing something for the first time and knowing that right now, we don’t know what it’s doing there. It’s in the need to tinker with theories and revise what we think we know. It’s in allowing science to lead us to answers, as surely as relying on all that training will get us to a summit.
“The short version is, I don’t really know the answer,” team member Will Grundy said to me last week, when images of Pluto’s haze prompted me to ask what a weather forecast would look like on Pluto. He then proceeded to beautifully lay out the logic and the questions we’d need to consider while tackling the problem.
Right now, we’re still on the tree-covered foothills of Pluto, staring at its peak through needled branches and trying to gain the next ridge.
Someday, I would love to be able to tell the story of Pluto — how it took root in the swirling disk of dust and gas that ringed our infant sun and, over millions of years, grew into a mottled, complex world with a giant moon and four smaller, icy companions. When, in Pluto’s history, did its mountains first punch through the exotic ices frosting its surface? How did that even happen? Did Pluto get pummeled by space rocks early in life, and if so, what happened to all the craters from that era? When did Pluto start getting its wrinkles, which look so much like the lines carved into wizened human faces?
What will its next 4.6 billion years be like?
I’m glad I can’t tell that story now, because it means our journey isn’t over. Once we know everything about Pluto (if we ever do), there is no more up. No more adventures, no more unexpected obstacles, no more surprises…until we descend, spend a minute recuperating, and get to work finding another mountain, or another route to Pluto’s peak.
Related Topics
Go Further
Animals
- When did bioluminescence evolve? It’s older than we thought.When did bioluminescence evolve? It’s older than we thought.
- Soy, skim … spider. Are any of these technically milk?Soy, skim … spider. Are any of these technically milk?
- This pristine piece of the Amazon shows nature’s resilienceThis pristine piece of the Amazon shows nature’s resilience
- Octopuses have a lot of secrets. Can you guess 8 of them?
- Animals
- Feature
Octopuses have a lot of secrets. Can you guess 8 of them?
Environment
- This pristine piece of the Amazon shows nature’s resilienceThis pristine piece of the Amazon shows nature’s resilience
- Listen to 30 years of climate change transformed into haunting musicListen to 30 years of climate change transformed into haunting music
- This ancient society tried to stop El Niño—with child sacrificeThis ancient society tried to stop El Niño—with child sacrifice
- U.S. plans to clean its drinking water. What does that mean?U.S. plans to clean its drinking water. What does that mean?
History & Culture
- Gambling is everywhere now. When is that a problem?Gambling is everywhere now. When is that a problem?
- Beauty is pain—at least it was in 17th-century SpainBeauty is pain—at least it was in 17th-century Spain
- The real spies who inspired ‘The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare’The real spies who inspired ‘The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare’
- Heard of Zoroastrianism? The religion still has fervent followersHeard of Zoroastrianism? The religion still has fervent followers
- Strange clues in a Maya temple reveal a fiery political dramaStrange clues in a Maya temple reveal a fiery political drama
Science
- NASA has a plan to clean up space junk—but is going green enough?NASA has a plan to clean up space junk—but is going green enough?
- Soy, skim … spider. Are any of these technically milk?Soy, skim … spider. Are any of these technically milk?
- Can aspirin help protect against colorectal cancers?Can aspirin help protect against colorectal cancers?
- The unexpected health benefits of Ozempic and MounjaroThe unexpected health benefits of Ozempic and Mounjaro
- Do you have an inner monologue? Here’s what it reveals about you.Do you have an inner monologue? Here’s what it reveals about you.
Travel
- What it's like to hike the Camino del Mayab in MexicoWhat it's like to hike the Camino del Mayab in Mexico
- Follow in the footsteps of Robin Hood in Sherwood ForestFollow in the footsteps of Robin Hood in Sherwood Forest
- This chef is taking Indian cuisine in a bold new directionThis chef is taking Indian cuisine in a bold new direction
- On the path of Latin America's greatest wildlife migrationOn the path of Latin America's greatest wildlife migration
- Everything you need to know about Everglades National ParkEverything you need to know about Everglades National Park