Unearthing Ancient Fossils: A Reflection on the Giants in My Life

By Steven Wade Veatch

I remember a scorching summer afternoon in 1992, when, with my new wife Shelly and mother-in-law Karen, I walked on a trail that meandered down the hill known as Cope’s Nipple—named after the 19th-century paleontologist who explored this site for dinosaur bones. People refer to the area as Garden Park, and it is located a few miles north of Cañon City, Colorado. 

With my mother-in-law in tow, I took the lead and attempted to be on my best behavior. She was visiting us from Interlochen, Michigan. As we walked, her presence loomed over me, casting a shadow that seemed to stretch endlessly. The air was heavy with her silent intensity, making the surroundings feel eerily quiet. I imagined a pleasing scent in the air. It reminded me of my mother-in-law's garden in Michigan. This added a mysterious touch to the atmosphere. It felt as if every step we took was heavy, as if her presence alone had a gravitational pull. My thoughts went back and forth between making a good impression on her and conjuring in my mind—since we were walking on a dinosaur graveyard—a spike-tailed Stegosaurus defending himself from an Allosaurus.

Depiction of an Allosaurs prowling about in Garden Park
during the Jurassic Period. AI generated image.

As I walked through this area, memories flooded back from two years before when I had explored it with a friend. As we made our way up a hill on that sunny day my friend and I unexpectedly came across a hilltop ornamented with an abundance of petrified wood. The sight was mesmerizing, with the hill covered in these ancient, hardened remains of trees. The wood appeared as if frozen in time, its intricate patterns and textures on full display. The crisp sound of our footsteps echoed through the stillness of the hilltop, adding an eerie ambiance to the scene. A faint scent of earthiness lingered in the air, reminding us of the long history embedded in these petrified remains. As we gently touched the wood, a cool, smooth sensation greeted our fingertips, connecting us to the past. We were the first ones to see all of this petrified wood. If someone had been there before us, all the wood would probably have been taken.

Shelly and Karen kept up with me as we continued to descend Cope’s Nipple. The scorching sun baked everything in a relentless heat. While we were going down a gentle slope, Shelly and Karen talked about how different this landscape was than the woodlands and humid air of northern Michigan. Shelly vividly recounted to her mother the harrowing encounter she had had a year before, when a venomous rattlesnake unexpectedly lunged at her on an earlier trip here. She urged her mother to remain vigilant and attentive while going down the pathway.

It was the hottest part of the day as we continued to walk along the trail that now cut through a dark-red disintegrated siltstone, part of the world-famous Jurassic-age Morrison Formation. Insects buzzed under an intense Colorado blue sky. A scorpion scurried with a quick dart beneath a cracked slab of siltstone, its jagged edges leaning against a smooth cobble of quartz. Time seemed to slow down in the heat, and seconds lingered in the dry air. 

I had been here in the spring of 1991 with a prospector buddy. On that day, while ascending a ravine, we stumbled upon huge heaps of bentonite clay. It had rained the night before, and the clay had swollen up to five times its normal size. Nodules of a lilac-purple St. Stephen’s agate were bulging out of the swollen, wet clay. I crawled up the side of a clay mound and plucked out one of these agates. As I held it to the sunlight to see the concentric layers inside, I slipped and slid down the slick clay on my backside. Wet, cement-like clay covered my back to my head. There was no way to wash it off, and it was solidifying in the arid air. My wife had a lot to say about this when I returned home. She also wanted to see this place, Garden Park, the next time I went.

Now my adventure with my wife and mother-in-law heated up. The dirt-covered path, lined by piñon pine, was in the middle of a dinosaur graveyard and was under the protection of the Bureau of Land Management—no fossil collecting allowed. I couldn’t imagine dinosaurs once ruled this dry, semi-arid land covered with yucca and cactus. As we walked along the trail Shelly’s voice poked into my consciousness. She had just bent down to pick something up from the side of the path. She was describing it to her mother: “It’s cone-shaped with a subtle curve. It has a pointed end.” She continued, “The other part of this is not pointed. There is a serrated edge.” The word SERRATED thundered across my consciousness. I asked her if I could see it. She handed it to me. I knew at once she had stumbled upon an extraordinary find—a pristine Allosaurus tooth, a relic from a formidable dinosaur that once reigned supreme in Garden Park’s prehistoric ecosystem. The ancient fossil, with its sharp edges and intricate ridges, exuded a sense of raw power. As I held it in my hand, I could feel the weight of its history, imagining the ferocious battles it had fought. The sight of the tooth gleaming in the sunlight transported all of us back to a time when mighty dinosaurs roamed the land. The faint scent of earth and ancient fossils lingered in the air, arousing a sense of awe and excitement. 

It was now time to finish the hike. We left the hotter, drier landscape for a riparian environment. Four Mile Creek greeted us as it sliced its way through a scenic valley adorned with cascading layers of limestone, siltstone, and sandstone. The gentle sound of flowing water filled the air, harmonizing with the rustling of cottonwood leaves along the creek bank. The earthy scent of wet soil along the stream mingled with the refreshing aroma of the nearby vegetation. As we stood there, we couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe and wonder at the natural beauty surrounding us. 

The day changed, it shifted into something new. Shelly’ discovery was important. You don’t find an Allosaurus tooth every day. My mother-in-law had a breakthrough in how she thought about me. She enjoyed our day together and listening to me talking about a vanished ecosystem filled with dinosaurs.

And I discovered how fortunate I was to have these two women in my life.

Ancient Weevil Pupal Cases: Trace Fossils from Australia’s Pleistocene

Curious pupal cases made by prehistoric weevils, together with worm burrows, are found as trace fossils in rock exposures of the Upper Bridgewater Formation along the western coastline of the Eyre Peninsula in South Australia (Flint, 1992; Flint and Rankin, 1991; Rankin and Flint, 1992).  According to Parker and Flint (2005), the Upper Bridgewater Formation is a middle to late Pleistocene aeolian calcarenite (a wind-blown, consolidated gritty calcareous sandstone).  These trace fossils are found inland from the coast for a distance of about 40 km.  Microscopic analysis of these ancient pupal cases shows they are made of gritty sand and gravel that were cemented by calcite over thousands of years.

Fig. 1. Fossil pupal cases from the Bridgewater Formation resemble small elongated eggs.  These cases have a hole where the fossil organism exited.  The trace fossils are characterized by their strong cementation and a hollow interior.  Scale in mm. Specimen from the S. W. Veatch collection. Photo by S. W. Veatch.

These cases are thought to have contained the pupae Leptopius duponti, a medium-size, soil-inhabiting weevil or snout beetle of the family Curculionidae. The Curculionidae are one of the largest families of organisms, with at least 44,000 described species (Grimaldi and Engel, 2005).  Adults of most species of this family have a characteristic elongate snout or nostrum.  At the end of this well-developed snout is a small pair of mandibles for biting and chewing food.

Taxonomic Classification:
Kingdom        Animalia
Phylum          Arthropoda
Class             Insecta
Order             Coleoptera
Suborder       Polyphaga
Superfamily Curculionoidea
Family           Curculionidae
Subfamily Leptopiinae
Genus           Leptopius
Species         duponti

The adult female Leptopius duponti not only relishes the foliage of acacia trees as food, but also carefully lays her eggs on the leaves.  When the larva hatch, they move underground to feed on roots. When they are ready to pupate, they form a chamber or pupal case out of the soil.  After their metamorphosis, they cut a hole near one end of their pupal case to leave and then burrow to the surface, where they quickly climb the acacia trees to feed.

The pupal cases are usually too delicate to survive for any length of time, but, occasionally, some of the empty cases remain underground where they become petrified by calcite.  (Tilley et al., 1997).  Some of these pupal cases in the Upper Bridgewater Formation are estimated to be 40,000 to 100,000 years old.

Fig. 2. Leptopius duponti is common in Australia, where they are called “wattle pigs.” 
The body length of Leptopius duponti averages 20 mm. 
These slow-moving weevils are plant eaters.
Photo by David Nelson. Used with permission.

References cited:

Flint, R.B., 1992, Elliston, South Australia, Sheet SI3-6, South Australia Geological Survey, 1:250,000 series, explanatory notes.

Flint, R.B. and Rankin, L.R., 1991, Kimba, South Australia, Sheet SI53-7, South Australia Geological Survey, 1:250,000 series, explanatory notes.

Grimaldi, D and Engle, M. S., 2005, The Evolution of Insects: New York, Cambridge University Press, 689 p.

Parker, A.J. and Flint, R.B., 2005, Yardea, South Australia Sheet SI53-3, Geological Survey of South Australia, 1:250,000 series, explanatory notes.

Rankin, L.R., and Flint, R.B., 1992, Streaky Bay, South Australia Sheet SI53-2, South Australia Geological Survey, 1:250,000 series, explanatory notes.

Tilley, D. B., Barrows, T.T., and Zimmerman, E.C., 1997, Bauxitic insect pupal cases from northern Australia.  Alcheringa 21, p. 157-160.

Timeless Trees at Florissant, Colorado

The huge petrified Sequoia stumps near Florissant stretch the limits of my understanding. I’m left with only wonder, like a poem I can’t explain. Under the dominion of a clear blue sky, the afternoon light ricochets off the stone, displaying the myriad beige and brown hues of the fossil stumps. Their stony surfaces contrast with tufts of grass that surround them. The nearby orange-red bark of ponderosa pine and the scent of the forest adds another layer of magic, while silent mats of pine green moss cluster in the shadows.  Pale lichens cover some of the stone tree rings.  The warm summer air buzzes with insects.

Figure 1. View of the Florissant Fossil Beds National Monument's 
iconic "Big Stump." Photo by S.W. Veatch.

For me, the stone trees are a portal where the past joins with the present, and time seems to have stopped.   I imagine how it all began 34 million years ago when a cluster of nearby volcanoes, once dormant, erupted.  It started with a blast of ash and fiery molten rock shooting out from awakened vents. The air became heavy and dark, as plumes of grey ash hazed eastward towards what would become Florissant. Rainfall mixed with loose sediments on volcanic slopes, forming mud—the color of morning coffee—that rushed down the slopes of the volcanoes at speeds of up to 90 miles an hour. Ash rained out of the sky and mixed with the spreading mud. The mud popped and hissed, while it spilled over ledges, covered rocks, and stretched heedlessly into the Florissant valley.

A wreckage of plants and animals tumbled in the mud’s advance as it invaded the forest of tall Sequoias. It turned the area into a surreal, harsh, hellish place, wiping out local populations of oreodonts, rhino-like brontotheres, and small horses. Birds, struggling to dodge the devastation, flew skyward from the branches of trees that stood above the mud. Tendrils of steam rose out of the jumbled mess of mud that surrounded the bases of the trees. The weight of the mud pressurized and squeezed the wood.  Over time, silica in the mud penetrated the wood, leaving behind the remnants of the ancient forest we encounter today.

I first saw the petrified trees when I was in grade school. I came back often with my family to look at them again.  This relic stone forest changed me. I studied fossils and rocks because of them. And I learned from them. I now realize how mankind is a force of nature and how we can alter landscapes, just as the ancient mud and ash did so long ago at Florissant. Our addiction to fossil fuel has altered our planet’s atmosphere and contributes to changing global climate. Florissant’s Sequoias are extinct because of climate change, and these trees encourage us to contemplate our annihilation as the planet experiences rates of extinction not experienced since a meteor wiped out the dinosaurs.
         
At the stone stumps, I take a few minutes to listen, where the sounds of the chirping birds, chattering squirrels, and the soft whispers of breezes exist with the noises of development—homes being built, cars moving and dogs yapping. I can also hear the petrified forest—it speaks of an Earth that is always in a state of change, but this protected ancient forest (a national monument now) also provides a place where change slows down, at least for me. As I look at the fossilized trees, I sense a calm as they release me from my ego and create an awareness of the wonderful things I can discover outside of myself.         

Figure 2. Dynamite was used the early twentieth century to expose this stump.
The use of explosives resulted in the shattered texture of the stump and
required the use metal bands to hold it together. Photo by S.W. Veatch.

Duria Antiquior: A Nineteenth-Century Forerunner of Paleoart

By Steven Wade Veatch

In a breath of inspiration in 1830, English geologist Henry De la Beche (1796–1855), while exploring new intellectual territories in the emerging fields of paleontology, painted Duria Antiquior (meaning “a more ancient Dorset”), a representation of a prehistoric Dorset coast. De la Beche’s work was groundbreaking—his artwork combined science and art in the first artistic rendering of a paleontological scene, while laying bare the secrets of the past. Before 1830, art depicting the prehistoric world did not exist and these realms were unknown to the public (Porter, n.d.). While it is true that scientists made drawings of fossil animals and exchanged them with each other in private letters, the public had no concept of how prehistoric animals looked. This painting opened people’s imagination to new visions, thoughts, and beliefs.

Fig. 1. Duria Antiquior. A watercolor painted in 1830 by Henry De la Beche who conjured up a vivid picture of an ancient world. Duria Antiquior is now in the National Museum of Wales. (Image is public domain)

De la Beche’s painting also laid the foundation for a new genre that would later be known as paleoart, an artistic genre that reconstructs prehistoric life according to the fossil record, scientific understanding, and artistic imagination. De la Bache’s brushstrokes of prehistoric time included (literally) all the information known at that time about ancient life and soon became the first teaching graphic used in the classrooms of the Golden Age of Geology, a period from 1788 to 1840 (Clary R. M., 2003). Today, this graphic would be equivalent to a PowerPoint slide in a classroom.

De la Beche’s Duria Antiquior brings the viewer face-to-face with creatures that once lived in a coastal sea where these animals fought a deadly battle for survival, a typical theme of nature in the Regency era (McGowan, 2001). The scene is remarkable: a toothy ichthyosaur bites into the long neck of a plesiosaur, while another plesiosaur tries to grab a crocodile on the shore (De la Beche’s ichthyosaur is minus the triangular dorsal fin and vertical tail fin that, from later fossils found in Germany, we now know it had).   A turtle quietly dives into the water. What would become coprolites (fossil excrement) drop from a terrified plesiosaur (Davis, 2012). Other creatures patrol the deep waters for food, while two pterosaurs dive toward each other in the sky. Belemnites appear like squids. Hollow ammonite shells rest on the bottom of the sea and crinoids (sea lilies) are portrayed in the lower right corner. Groves of palm trees grow on the shore. All of this is rendered through the painter’s use of a restrained palette of browns, greens, and blues.

Another striking feature of the painting is how it is divided. The waterline reveals the action above and below the water’s surface (Rudwick, 1992). The Duria Antiquior is the first example of what is known as the aquarium view that would become a Victorian trend several years later (Clary & Wandersee, 2005). The area above the waterline is further divided into two areas of activity—action on the land and in the sky. De la Beche wanted the viewer to be convinced of his portrayal of a prehistoric scene.

De la Beche based the Duria Antiquior on fossils found by Victorian fossil collector, Mary Anning (1799-1847), along the Dorset coast near the resort town of Lyme Regis (Brewster, 2016). Anning was from a poor family, who frequently found themselves on the far side of desperate. To ease these brutal financial circumstances, the family earned money by collecting and selling fossils. As a child, her father would take Mary Anning and her brother, Joseph, fossil hunting by the fossil-rich cliffs near Lyme Regis. They returned home with fossils and, with superior skill, cleaned and prepared them, and then sold them to tourists as curios. Anning, aged 11, continued the family business after her father died of tuberculosis and heavily in debt.

Fig. 2. Portrait of Mary Anning with her dog, Tray. This painting was owned by her brother, Joseph, and given to the Natural History Museum, London in 1935 by Mary's great-great niece, Miss Annette Anning. (Image is public domain)

By 1830, Anning was a celebrity among the leading constellation of British geologists for her knowledge and skill in collecting and preparing fossils (Cadbury, 2000). Anning is credited with finding the first ichthyosaur skeleton to be recognized and the first two plesiosaur skeletons ever found. Her discovery of these marine reptiles had created a sensation in the scientific community (McGowan, 2001).

Anning frequently found herself in financial straits due to harsh economic times in Britain, and from the unpredictability of finding and selling fossils. Being strapped for money restricted her ability to find fossils. De la Beche wanted to keep her in the field hunting fossils. To that end, he arranged to have prints of Duria Antiquior made and then sold the copies for £2 10s (approximately £213 or $279 today) each (Rudwick, 1992). De la Beche gave the profits—with great enthusiasm—to Anning, so she had more time to hunt for fossils and seashells along the seashore. The painting was a smashing success and, to meet the enormous demand for the prints, the Duria Antiquior was reprinted and redrawn several times.

The Duria Antiquior pushed the boundaries of science and art at the end of the Regency period in Britain. This avant-garde watercolor became the first scene of prehistoric animals interacting with each other in their ancient environment, all based on known science at the time. This was the earliest such art to be widely distributed and helped shape the understanding of prehistoric life on Earth. 

References

Brewster, S. (2016, July 4). Duria Antiquior, A More Ancient Dorset. Retrieved from Eastern Biological: https://easternbiological.co.uk/blogs/news/duria-antiquior-a-more-ancient-dorset

Cadbury, D. (2000). The Dinosaur Hunters: A True Story of Scientific Rivalry and the Discovery of the Prehistoric World. Foulsham.

Clary, R. M. (2003). Uncovering Strata: an Investigation into the Graphic Innovations of Geologist Henry T. De la Beche. Retrieved from LSU Doctoral Dissertations: https://digitalcommons.lsu.edu/gradschool_dissertations/127/

Clary, R. M., & Wandersee, J. H. (2005). "Through the Looking Glass: The History of Aquarium Views and their Potential to Improve Learning in Science Classrooms. Science and Education, 579–596.

Davis, L. E. (2012). Mary Anning of Lyme Regis: 19th Century Pioneer in British Palaeontology. Headwaters: The Faculty Journal of the College of Saint. Benedict and St. John's Universtiy, 96-128.

McGowan, C. (2001). The Dragon Seekers. New York: Perseus Publishing.

Porter, S. (n.d.). Paleontology Needs Paleoart. Retrieved from Earth Archives: http://www.eartharchives.org/articles/paleontology-needs-paleoart/

Rudwick, M. J. (1992). Scenes from Deep Time: Early Pictorial Representations of the Prehistoric World. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.

The Mystery of Genevieve: The Golden Dinosaur from the Depths of the London Mine

Steven Wade Veatch
and
Teresa L. Stoiber

The legend of “Genevieve,” a fossilized dinosaur not only made of stone—but also of gold—began on July 3, 1932. That was the day W. K Jewett, owner of the London Mine near Alma, Colorado, stopped at the Antlers Hotel in Colorado Springs and made the official announcement of its unearthing. The story was picked up by the news services, and word of the fantastic  find spread through the scientific world like a prairie fire.

The golden dinosaur was discovered by William White, 700 feet underground—deep in the London Mine (W. K. Jewett, 1932). Curiously, the miners had been using the creature’s nose as a lamp holder, not realizing there was a "dinosaur" (if that is what it was) there. White, a hard rock miner, believed at first he was looking at two stumps. In reality, it was a dinosaur lying on its back with its limbs at an angle of 75 degrees. Eager to retrieve it from its rocky tomb, miners blasted it out of rock at the 700-foot level of the London Mine with dynamite. The explosion shattered the specimen. Bits and pieces of the dinosaur were hoisted to the surface, where curious crowds gathered to see the prehistoric monster.

As the story goes, a geology professor at Colorado College, Robert Landon, traveled to Alma so he could examine Genevieve—an extraordinary record of a former world. The measurements he made revealed that the animal was 18 feet (5.4 m) long and 6.5 feet (2 m) high (W. K. Jewett, 1932). The creature had a long neck that supported a small head. It also had a long tail.

Fig. 1. The only known photo of Genevieve taken in the basement of Cutler Hall, Colorado College.Photo credit: Colorado College Tiger, August 12, 1932. Page 3. Courtesy of Colorado College Tutt Library, Special Collections.

Jewett, who gave to the city of Colorado Springs the Patty Jewett golf course, presented the dinosaur to the Colorado College museum (Skeleton of Dinosaur, 1932). The 16-ton dinosaur reached Colorado College by truck, where a crew of men carefully carried it to the basement of Cutler Hall. College technicians spent countless hours in the basement, where they enthusiastically cemented together what the newspapers hailed as the rarest find ever made in paleontology (Genevieve, Colleges Latest Acquisition Now Ready to Receive Callers, 1932). After the repair of the fossil dinosaur, it was moved to Colorado College’s museum and put on display (Will Bring Dinosaur Here Late this Week, 1932).

There is a real mystery that surrounds this dinosaur. In the 1960s, the museum closed and Genevieve’s display was removed. No one seems to know what happened to this specimen. Was Genevieve smelted down, put in the basement archives and forgotten, or taken to a professor’s house for a private collection?  The mystery of her disappearance still stands to this day.

Three critical questions must now be answered: Was Genevieve a dinosaur, where did she go, and was she really made of gold? The past would not easily give up these secrets, including unfortunately, the origin of its lovely name.

An article, from Greely, Colorado’s Tribune-Republican, dated July 2, 1932, stated the dinosaur remains were made known to Mr. Jesse Figgins, Director of the Colorado Museum of Natural History (noted for for his work on the famous Folsom archaeological site in New Mexico), who said this unusual dinosaur fossil must be the remains of a marine reptile. Nowhere in the article does it report  that Genevieve was made of gold—but it does state that she was shattered when dynamited out of the mine, and that restoration wasn’t expected to take long.

When asked about Genevieve, Colorado College archivist Jessy Randall said she had been questioned about her before. The last time was in 2004, when Geology Professor Emeritus Bill Fischer, former chair of the geology department, was still alive. Fischer gave this response:

“The one man who would have had the answers, Professor Bob Landon, died in 1995, and all of the people associated with the college museum are also deceased. . . I never heard of the specimen during my 50-year association with the school, and I suspect that it really was never installed in the museum and that the college newspaper account that ‘it was resting on a pedestal in the museum’ is totally false. From the photograph, one can see that with 16 tons of matrix and bone it would have taken months if not years to prepare the specimen for display. Now for a few thoughts as to the fossil itself. First of all, it is not a dinosaur and probably not a rhynchocephalian reptile. The photograph is of very poor quality, but my best guess is that it may have been a Phytosaur—but regardless of the correct identification it was a very valuable find, and I am sorry if it ended up in a smelter. . . Good luck in your search and sorry I couldn't be of more assistance.” Signed: Bill Fischer.

Sadly, it looks like Genevieve’s case has gone cold. The museum has long been closed, and those associated with the museum are deceased. It is doubtful that she was made of gold—but she was found in a gold mine, the source of a good rumor and the basis for a great story surrounding her mysterious existence and disappearance.

Although Genevieve remains a mystery, this article has dug up and weaves together most of what is known and speculated about her. Although her real story has been buried with the museum workers and gold miners who have passed away, there are still a few miners who, while relaxing at a local saloon, fondly ponder the puzzle of Genevieve. They raise their shot glasses and make this toast to the miners who found Genevieve, the golden dinosaur: “May you always stand on ore and your labors be in vein.”

Acknowledgments

The authors thank Danny Alfrey for bringing Genevieve to our attention back in 2011. We also appreciate Ben Elick’s help in obtaining the photograph of this mysterious fossil.

References Cited

Find Skeleton of Dinosaur in Ore of London Mine. (1932, July 2). Colorado Springs Gazette, p. 2.

Genevieve, Colleges Latest Acquisition Now Ready to Receive Callers. Made Presentable by Profs. (1932, August 12). Colorado College Tigers

W. K. Jewett Gives Skeleton of Prehistoric Animal to Colo. College Museum. (1932, July 3). Colorado Springs Gazette, p. 2.

Will Bring Dinosaur Here Late this Week. (1932, July 6,). Colorado Springs Gazette, p. 5

Stegosaurus: Colorado’s State Fossil

By Destin Bogart, guest blogger

As the state dinosaur of Colorado and one of the most iconic members of Dinosauria, Stegosaurus has earned this spot due to its fascinating history and its large number of fossil remains that allow paleontologists to understand more about Stegosaurus than other dinosaur genera that have a more fragmentary fossil record.

The first remains of Stegosaurus were uncovered during a period in the late 1870s known as, “The Bone Wars,” which intensified the collection efforts between two rival paleontologists—Othniel Charles Marsh and Edward Drinker Cope. Marsh initially discovered Stegosaurus in 1877 near Morrison, Colorado. Marsh first thought those remains belonged to a turtle-like animal, but soon revised this finding as more Stegosaurus fossils were unearthed.

O.C. Marsh's 1891 illustration of Stegosaurus ungulatus. 

Paleontologists now place the arrangement of the back 

plates in two alternating rows and oriented vertically. 

Copyright: public domain.

The largest Stegosaurus could stand four meters (12 feet) high at the tallest back plate and could reach lengths of up to nine meters (~30 feet). But the size alone is not what sets Stegosaurus apart from the other animals it shared its ecosystem with; rather the plates that line the spine of Stegosaurus make this dinosaur recognizable to everyone. Yet the plates remain an enigma; paleontologists have put forth many theories regarding how the plates are positioned. When Othniel Marsh first found the remains, he thought the plates lay flat against the body like the armor of a Pangolin (looks like a scaly anteater).

Through the years, paleontologists have refined the theory regarding the exact configuration of these plates, which went from two lines of identical plates on the back, to one row of plates that alternate. Scientists now place the arrangement of the back plates in two alternating rows and oriented vertically.

Stegosaurus stenops from the Late Jurassic of North America, 

pencil drawing by Nobu Tamura. Copywrite: Image license through the 

courtesy of Creative Commons.

What these plates were used for is still up for debate and has remained so since the animal’s discovery. Robert Bakker, a world-renowned paleontologist and curator of the Houston Museum of Nature and Science, speculates the plates of Stegosaurus were the inside, or core, of a bigger plate made of keratinous material. Bakker also suggests these plates were semi-movable and the animal used them as a defense, splaying them out to the sides to deter predators from coming too close. Other scientists have claimed the back plates were used to attract a mate or to control body temperature.

Even if the plates of Stegosaurus were not used for defense, Stegosaurus carried with it four spike-like osteoderms (bone embedded in the skin) on the end of its tail. These spikes (informally called thagomizers) bent out to the sides and backward and were likely an incredible defense against many large predators of the Morrison Formation. 

In 2014, Robert Bakker found a large open hole in the lower-front portion of the pelvis of a mounted Allosaurus skeleton at the Glenrock Paleontological Museum. The hole fits the tail spike of a Stegosaurus. This is evidence of just how formidable the tail of a Stegosaurus was as a defensive weapon when it struck the crotch of an Allosaurus. Evidence suggests bacteria, broken bone, and other debris remained in the wound, causing an infection that eventually killed the animal. According to Robert Bakker, “A massive infection ate away a baseball-sized sector of the bone, probably this infection spread upwards into the soft tissue attached here, the thigh muscles and adjacent intestines and reproductive organs.” 

The brain of Stegosaurus, although not quite walnut-sized, was unusually small compared to its body mass. So far, Stegosaurs claims the smallest brain size to body mass of any other dinosaur. This small brain presented a problem—how could it survive without more intelligence? It seems the large plates on its back and the spikes of its thagomizer were keys to its survival against predators. Also, Stegosaurs behavior played a role. Paleontologist Matthew Mossbrucker discovered in 2007, footprints of adult, juvenile, and hatchling specimens in the Morrison Formation that suggest Stegosaurs stayed together in small groups, most likely for protection against predators. 

Stegosaurus is the rhinoceros of the Late Jurassic as it was both an herbivore and highly dangerous to anything it perceived as a threat. Stegosaurus died out near the end of the Jurassic, leaving only fossils and footprints as a reminder of its existence. However, paleontologists can, using fossils and a little bit of educated guesswork, begin to understand how this animal behaved, how it lived, and how it died.

Author’s Bio: Destin Bogart is 16 years old and ever since he can remember he has had a passion for paleontology. He is an Earth Science Scholar with the Colorado Springs Mineralogical Society and is a junior IB World Student at Pueblo West High School. Destin is planning a career in vertebrate paleobiology.

References:

Castro, Joseph. "Stegosaurus: Bony Plates & Tiny Brain." LiveScience. Purch, 08 Dec. 2014. Web. 18 June 2015.

Holtz, Thomas R. Jr. (2012) Dinosaurs: The Most Complete, Up-to-Date Encyclopedia for Dinosaur Lovers of All Ages, Winter 2011 Appendix.

Lambert, D (1993). The Ultimate Dinosaur Book. Dorling Kindersley, New York. pp. 110–29. ISBN 1-56458-304-X.

Carpenter, K (1998). "Armor of Stegosaurus stenops, and the taphonomic history of a new specimen from Garden Park Colorado". The Upper Jurassic Morrison Formation: An Interdisciplinary Study. Part 1. Modern Geol. 22. pp. 127–44.

Carpenter, K and Galton PM (2001). "Othniel Charles Marsh and the Eight-Spiked Stegosaurus". in Carpenter, Kenneth. The Armored Dinosaurs. Indiana University Press. pp. 76–102. ISBN 0-253-33964-

Pastino, Blake De. "Allosaurus Died from Stegosaur Spike to the Crotch, Wyoming Fossil Shows." Western Digs. Western Digs, 23 Oct. 2014. Web. 20 June 2015.

"Stegosaurus; Colorado State Fossil." State Symbols USA. STATE SYMBOLS USA, n.d. Web. 21 June 2015.

Jacobson, Rebecca. "First Steps of a Baby Stegosaurus, Captured in 3-D." PBS. PBS, 16 July 2014. Web. 22 June 2015.

Dryopteris: A Fossil Fern from Florissant

Ferns are among the fossil plants found in the Florissant Fossil Beds of Colorado. Fossil plants like these ferns are records of prehistoric life—providing information about when an organism lived, where it lived, and how it lived. Fossils are vital in helping paleontologists reconstruct ancient environments and establishing the geologic history of the Earth.

Dryopteris guyotti was abundant in past geologic ages. 

Broad, flat leaves helped the fern catch more sunlight.

Florissant Fossil Beds National Monument specimen

number 3135a.  Photo by R. Wood.

The origins of ferns are not well understood, but continued study of fossil ferns may reveal more about their beginnings. The earliest recognizable ferns come from the Carboniferous (359-299 million years ago).

Ferns have large complex fronds (leaves) and are spore bearers. Some ferns are non-woody, but other ferns are woody and are called tree ferns. Ferns were common late Paleozoic plants and widespread in the Mesozoic. Today ferns are the most common and diverse spore-bearing land plants with over 10,000 species. They generally live in moist, shady areas of the forest understory.

Dryopteris, from the Greek, drus (oak) and pteris (fern) occurs in Florissant’s Eocene fossil flora as well as other Tertiary floras. Its common name—wood fern—is from the preferred woodland habitat of most Dryopteris species. Other common names include shield fern, Goldie’s fern, male fern and buckler ferns.

Today Dryopteris is a genus of about 250 species of ferns growing in the temperate Northern Hemisphere and in eastern Asia. Fronds are bipinnate (branching of leaflets at right angles to the central axis). The leaflets, or pinnules, are lobed. Fertile pinnules have round sori, which are fruit dots or reproductive bodies (Tidwell, 1998). Many of the species have solid rootstocks forming a crown with a ring of fronds.

Line drawing of Dryopteris filix.
Note round sori near top.
USDA-NRCS PLANTS Database
 Britton, N.L., and A. Brown. 1913.
An illustrated flora of the northern United States,
Canada and the British Possessions.

Off all the fossil ferns at Florissant, Dryopteris guyottii is the only species of fern described from a frond. Other ferns are known only from fossil spores. It appears that Dryopteris guyotti grew in the understory of the Eocene forest at Florissant (preferring damp and shaded environments like its modern relatives) or near ancient Lake Florissant.

Ancient Sea Urchins of Colorado Springs: Incredible Porcupines of the Sea

Just west of Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs—about 3 kilometers from the beginning of Rampart Range Road—are the remains of fossil sea urchins found weathering out of the Glen Eyrie Formation. These fossil sea urchins are Archaeocidaris dininnii. These ancient animals reveal a span of time when Colorado Springs was under a sea and home to a large number of marine creatures.

Archaeocidaris occured in large groups since the environment included plenty of food and protection from waves and currents. Like modern sea urchins, living in groups improves spawning and provided protection. Once the first sea urchin was found at this fossil site the search was on for more. Dozens of additional specimens were collected.

Archaeocidaris had a spherical, calcareous skeleton or test made of moderately thick plates that were arranged radially in two types of double columns. The first double column, termed the ambulacrum (plural-ambulacra), had two pores in each plate for the projection of tube feet. Hydraulically powered tube feet aid in locomotion, anchoring, feeding, sensing the environment, and respiration.


The second double column, the interambulacrum, alternates with the ambulacra. Archaeocidaris had a distinctive arrangement of four columns of plates in each interambulacrum. Moveable spines were joined onto a single large tubercle on each interambulacral plate.



Polygonal interambulacral plates that form part
of the Archaeocidaris test. Spines fit on the large knobs
or tubercles in the center of the plates.Spines are
 rarely preserved as fossils.

Skin and cord-like muscle, covering the test, moved and rotated the spines in almost any direction around the tubercle. The barbed spines of Archaeocidaris provided protection from predators and allowed locomotion. 

The interambulacral plates have conspicuous bumps in
the center where the spines were once connected. 

 When a sea urchin dies, the tissue that holds the plates together decays, and the plates disassemble and scatter on the seafloor. of the Archaeocidaris dininnii fossils found at the Rampart Range Road site are represented by separate plates and spines.

Because sea urchins are generally one of the first marine organisms to show signs of stress if something is wrong with the water, the Environmental Protection Agency uses them as an indicator organism for water quality near shores and in bays. When conditions are poor, sea urchins will stop moving, their spines will droop, and they will die.





Aerial Photos Shows Outline of Ancient Lake Florissant

Just west of Pikes Peak and south of the town of Florissant, Colorado (about 40 miles west of Colorado Springs on U.S. Highway 24) lies a scenic mountain valley where a number of petrified redwood stumps dot the landscape. Beneath this beautiful setting are incredible plant and insect fossils buried in the sediments of an ancient lake. These fossils, ranging from large tree stumps to single-celled diatoms, reveal a prehistoric Colorado of long ago. Today the Florissant Fossil Beds National Monument protects these fossil resources.

About 34 million years ago, volcanic eruptions near Guffey (18 miles to the southwest) produced volcanic mudflows (water-saturated mass of ash and rock debris). These mudflows—looking and flowing like concrete—buried a lush valley and petrified the bases of huge redwood trees that grew there. These mudflows also created a dam in the valley, forming a lake about one mile wide and 12 miles long. Volcanic ash from subsequent eruptions formed fine-grained sediments at the bottom of the lake. Plants, insects, and other organisms were entombed in this material. Over millions of years these sediments were compacted into layers of shale. The delicate details of these organisms were preserved as fossils and provide a look at the life and the prehistoric ecosystem of the Florissant valley during the end of the Eocene Epoch.

The approximate area of ancient Lake Florissant is defined in this aerial photo by meadows and treeless sections. The prehistoric lake area (light gray) is seen extending through the center of the photograph and then turns west at the town of Florissant. NAPP black and white vertical aerial photo from 20,000 feet (9/29/1999). Top of the photo is north.



NAPP vertical color infrared (CIR) aerial photo of the Florissant valley from 20,000 feet (9/24/88).  Color infrared film is used to interpret natural resources such as vegetation, soil conditions, water resources, and other features.  Active vegetation appears in various shades of red and pink (intense red colors indicate vigorous and dense growth).  Water that is clean and clear appears black.  Shallow water reflects bottom sediments and appears in various shades of blue. Soil conditions (moisture levels) are revealed by the degree of the gray tone:  dry soils are light gray, moist soils are gray, and wet soils are dark gray.  Top of the photo is north.

















  





 











Fossil Pollen Reveals Florissant's Ice Age Environment

Out of the mists of prehistory—through fossil pollen and spores—comes an unprecedented glimpse into Florissant’s past. Experts used cutting-edge science to examine pollen and spores buried with a fossil mammoth to better understand the Ice Age world of Florissant.

Entrance to the Florissant Fossil Beds, Colorado

The Florissant mammoth lived and died more than 50,000 years ago, during the last Ice Age. Its bones were fossilized safely in the ground until a student intern found it in 1994. During careful excavation of the mammoth, all of the fossil material was collected and bagged—including soil, gravel, and sediment samples. A molar tooth and part of the mammoth’s jaw were the main fossils recovered. Scientists used these to identify the mammoth as a Columbian mammoth.

A lab recently analyzed a sample from the sediment layer just below the mammoth. The lab determined that the sedimentary layer is a limestone containing fine sandy and silty quartz grains.

New pollen evidence from the mammoth site at the Florissant Fossil Beds reveals environmental conditions during one of the warm, interglacial periods of Teller County's Ice Age.  Above is a fossil pine pollen. The abundance of pine pollen, along with the rock moss, indicates a dry climate at Florissant.  Photomicrogrpah is by D. Jarzen.

The lab first prepared the limestone for processing to recover pollen and spore grains. Solutions of corrosive chemicals such as potassium hydroxide, hydrochloric acid, and hydrogen fluoride removed the organic and mineral particles in the sample. The pollen, because it is composed of some of the most chemically resistant organic compounds in nature, survived this harsh chemical processing.

Next, lab workers made microscope slides from the residual pollen and carefully examined them. When viewed with a microscope, pollen grains from different plants have distinctive appearances that can identify the plant species they came from. The pollen and spores were identified and counted.

The lab work identified an amazing assemblage of Ice Age vegetation at Florissant, making it possible to reconstruct much of the local environment based on these tiny fossils. A major surprise was finding hickory (Carya) and oak (Quercus)—both hardwoods—in the Rocky Mountains from a lab sample that was at least 50,000 years old. From microscopic examination of the hardwood pollen it appears that they grew locally during the Ice Age. There is no reason to think they are reworked from sediments redeposited from earlier times.

Image of a hickory (Carya) pollen grain.  Pollen grains are incredibly resistant and are difficult to destroy by physical or chemical processes.  The plentiful and hardy nature of pollen makes it a source of data about past climates in specific places. Photomicrograph by D. Jarzen.

The pollen and spore assemblage is a tiny time capsule from Florissant’s Ice Age and reveals that Florissant had a dry climate during this interglacial period—indicated by the abundance of pine pollen and rock moss (Selaginella). The landscape was relatively open and covered with vegetation. Scattered stands of pine, along with some hardwoods growing near streams, dotted the landscape. Groundcover included asters, daisies, sunflowers (Compositae), and sagebrush. Most important was the rock moss, which grows on rocks and thrives on direct sunlight. Rock moss is a key indicator of a dry climate.

Image of an aster pollen grain.  Image of an aster pollen grain. Because most plant species have distinctive pollen shapes, botanists can identify from which plant the pollen came, allowing scientists to determine the plants found in a certain place at a given time. Photo by D. Jarzen.

Florissant’s fossil mammoth and associated material continues to yield scientific information. The current pollen study is important because in the continental United States there is little information on interglacial floras. The Florissant pollen adds significantly to our understanding of North American interglacial floras.

The Florissant mammoth and its associated pollen has not only unlocked some of the secrets of Florissant’s Ice Age, but has earned an enduring place in the paleontological record.

Note: Steven Veatch is the principal investigator working on the Florissant pollen project. His team incldes David Jazen of the University of Florida, Estella Leopold of the University of Washington, and Herbert Meyer, park paleontologist (Florissant Fossil Beds Natinal Monument).