Apollo 17 the geologist who found orange soil

Most people think the Apollo missions were a series of smooth landings and triumphant flag-plantings. The reality is far messier. Every single lunar mission came with moments that could have ended in catastrophe. Apollo 17, the final manned Moon landing, had its share of close calls. But it also gave us one of the most bizarre and scientifically important discoveries of the entire program: orange soil. And it was found by a geologist who had no business being on that mission in the first place.

Harrison Schmitt was a geologist, not a pilot. He was a civilian scientist, which made him an anomaly among the test-pilot-dominated astronaut corps. NASA originally planned to send a professional scientist to the Moon on Apollo 18, but budget cuts killed that mission. When Apollo 17 was moved up to the final slot, Schmitt—a Harvard-educated geologist—got the seat that would have gone to another pilot. It was a risky choice. The mission commander, Gene Cernan, was a Navy pilot with no geology training. The two of them had to work together in a way that no previous crew had: one man who understood the Moon’s rocks better than anyone alive, and one man who knew how to fly a spacecraft that was basically a bomb strapped to a tin can.

The mission launched on December 7, 1972, at 12:33 a.m. Eastern time. It was the only night launch of the Apollo program. The Saturn V rocket lit up the Florida coast like a second sunrise. The mission’s destination: the Taurus-Littrow valley, a treacherous area surrounded by mountains and filled with boulders. It was chosen specifically for its geological diversity. Schmitt was going to get a textbook’s worth of lunar history in one landing site.

But the close calls started early. During the descent to the lunar surface, Cernan and Schmitt realized their landing radar wasn’t locking onto the ground properly. Without that data, the computer couldn’t calculate altitude or descent rate accurately. If the radar failed completely, they would have to abort and return to orbit. Cernan kept his cool, manually cross-checking his visual landmarks against the instrument readings. The radar finally locked on with less than two minutes of fuel remaining. They landed safely, but it was by the slimmest of margins.

Once on the surface, Schmitt got to work. He had trained for years to look at the Moon through a geologist’s eyes. That training paid off immediately. While exploring the edge of a crater called Shorty, Schmitt noticed something that made him stop mid-stride. He called out to Cernan: “There is orange soil!” It wasn’t a trick of the light. The ground beneath his boots had a distinct, rusty-orange hue, unlike anything seen on previous Apollo missions. Back on Earth, the sample would be analyzed and found to contain tiny beads of orange volcanic glass. They were formed by a fire fountain eruption nearly 3.5 billion years ago. The orange soil proved that the Moon had once been volcanically active in ways scientists had not understood.

But the discovery almost came at a cost. While Schmitt was scooping up the orange soil, he lost his footing and stumbled. If he had fallen and punctured his spacesuit, he would have died within seconds. No suit repair was possible on the surface. Cernan had to steady him, and the moment passed. But it was a sharp reminder that even routine sampling could turn lethal in a vacuum.

The mission had more close calls. On their second moonwalk, the Lunar Rover’s fender broke, spraying dust onto the astronauts and their equipment. That dust was later found to be sharp and abrasive, capable of causing mechanical failures and health issues. The crew improvised a fix using duct tape and maps, a patch that held for the rest of the mission. On their final moonwalk, they had to drive the rover over treacherous terrain to reach a cluster of boulders at the base of a mountain. The rover’s battery was draining faster than expected. They made it back to the lander with less than five percent power remaining.

When they left the Moon, they didn’t just leave footprints. They left a plaque that read: “Man’s first footsteps on the Moon. We came in peace for all mankind.” But the truth is that every step of Apollo 17 was a gamble. The orange soil was a scientific goldmine, but it was found by a geologist who almost fell into a crater, in a valley that almost killed him with radiation, dust, and equipment failures.

Apollo 17 remains the last time a human being stepped onto another world. Harrison Schmitt was the first and only scientist to do so. The orange soil he found changed our understanding of the Moon. But the mission itself is a masterclass in how thin the margin between success and catastrophe really is.