I am drawn to wild places, like a moth to a flame. Like so many, my heart beats for the beautiful landscapes of my home in Oregon. The mountains call out to me; the forests whisper their welcome; the rivers run deep in my heart. I have spent a lot of time hiking in the Pacific Northwest, sweating it out on the trails.
While I love the lushness of the Pacific Northwest, I am also drawn to alien landscapes. Visiting places that are new to me awakens my mind and body to new sensations and curiosities.
A Foreign Land
The Sonoran desert of Southern Arizona is about as foreign to western Oregon as it gets. So, for a couple of weeks in March, I traded my muddy forest trails filled with towering conifers for the dusty desert of the Southwest in hopes of discovering a new place to love.
The sun hung low in the sky, when I met up with environmental scientist and Parsons Field Institute Coordinator, Mary Fastiggi and her colleague, Director of Development and Marketing, Adele Dietrich, for a hike in the McDowell Sonoran Preserve in Scottsdale, AZ. Our plan was to hike a small three-mile loop starting on the turpentine trail, and along the way, for Mary to show Adele and me a bit of the scientific work the Conservancy was invested in.
Details: There is ample parking at the trailhead and restroom facilities at the trailhead, but no water available. Educational signs and placards are available to read and learn more about the preserve. The preserve is open from sunrise to sunset. Automatic gates close off the preserve at this time.
Orientation
Before we set off, Mary oriented me to the Conservancy as a whole. “We are a stewardship organization that works in the Preserve,” explained Mary; the land itself is owned by the City of Scottsdale.
Started by local citizens, passionate about the land and concerned about land development; over the last 30 years, the McDowell Sonoran Conservancy has advocated for the care of the preserve, with the City of Scottsdale now owning roughly 30,500 acres of land in the Sonoran desert. That is ⅓ of the land area of the City of Scottsdale, and the equivalent of about 36 Central Parks.
Though the original focus of the McDowell Sonoran Conservancy was land preservation, its mission has “shifted from advocating for land preservation and then expanded to education and science.” Here is where Mary’s work really comes in. She is part of the science pillar of Stewardship at the Conservancy, with a goal of conducting ecological research in order to inform and inspire a deeper understanding of the Sonoran desert.
Urbanization
And there is a lot to be learned! One of the biggest threats to the Preserve and also a priority of the Parsons Field Institute, where the Science pillar is housed, are the impacts of urban stressors. The Phoenix area is the second-fastest-growing area in the U.S. so this is a major focus for the Institute.
Mary pointed to a map of the preserve found at the trailhead: “This is the Preserve in green,” she said. Though there was a lot of green on the map, you could also see that there was also a lot of land that was not protected, and thus open for development.
Trailhead Map
Connectivity
“Wildlife corridors are really really important for wildlife,” remarked Mary. With the Preserve adjacent to the Tonto National Forest and other protected land, the function of the Preserve for creating connectivity is paramount. “We want to make sure that connectivity stays connected,” expressed Mary.
With that in mind, there has been ongoing research on the use of the Preserve as a wildlife corridor and the impacts of nearby urbanization on wildlife. One break in the connectivity that is a concern is a road, Rio Verde Drive, that cuts across the Preserve.”
“We have done a Mule Deer telemetry study,” said Mary, to see how the road impacted migration. The study revealed different patterns of behavior between the sexes of the deer when it came to crossing the road, confirming that the road does pose a challenge.
However, one of the projects Mary was most excited about was a new Sonoran Desert Tortoise study, funded by the Arizona Game and Fish Department’s Heritage Grant. Mary directed my attention out past the map toward an open expanse of land. “It all looks like a desert,” she said, “but all this land can be developed and will be.”
The plan is to use telemetry to track the tortoises over time. By following the movement of tortoises, the Conservancy hopes to gain a better understanding of the impact of urbanization and other pressures on desert life.
Native Plants
After my orientation, Mary, Adele, and I all decided to head out on the trail. Enthusiasm was high as we began our walk along a dusty desert trail heading west.
However, we hadn’t made it more than a few yards when a colorful red color caught our eyes. According to Mary, it was a Hummingbird or Chuparosa plant! The Chuparosa is a beauty! Not just to me, but to hummingbirds, as well, who are attracted to the vibrant red blossoms of the plant. It is also “promoted for yards,” said Mary.
Surrounding the Chuparosa was a lot of golden-colored dry grass. “Red Brome,” stated Mary, “does pretty well and is naturalized across the Preserve.” This non-native grass was one of many we saw through the Preserve during our hike.
Tens of feet beyond the Chuparosa and grasses stood a shrubby plant. Mary grabbed a few leaves and held them to her nose and inhaled deeply. Invited to do the same, a sweet earthy, smell filled my senses. It was a Creosote bush. Apparently, the smell emanates from a waxy coating that protects the leaves from losing moisture during drought.
Interestingly, after a rainfall, the desert takes on the “fresh smell” of creosote, explained Mary. A reality I can corroborate, as the next week, following a rainy night, I went backpacking in the Superstition Wilderness and was enraptured by the earthy scent of what I could only assume was the creosote. It smelt like a fresh start.
Mary with a Creosote shrub.
Different Communities
We also saw some Yucca. Though not in bloom during our hike, in the spring, the Yucca grows clusters of flowers on stocks up to 6 feet high. These flowers are pollinated by the yucca moth which also depends on the yucca fruit seeds during their larval stage—an interesting mutualistic interaction.
We also saw the narrow-leaved turpentine bush. Though also not in flower, its leaves gave off a sweet smell, which is also an attractant for birds and insects that use the bush for food and shelter. Contrarily, it also attracts botanizing humans as well.
“You won’t find as much of these in the southern part of the Preserve,” Mary stated, referring to the Yucca.
“You don’t really see this one a lot lower either,” Mary pointed out, referring to the Turpentine bush.
Within the preserve elevation changes, as well as differences in rainfall and temperature, have resulted in many different community types or subtypes. “There is about a 700-foot difference in elevation from the lower parts of the Preserve,” explained Mary. Thus, depending on where you are in the Preserve, you will see a different mix of plants and animals.
Yucca found along the trail. Turpentine bush is common in the preserve at higher elevation.
Defining a Desert
So with all these differences, what exactly defines the Sonoran Desert? And why should I care?
At this point, we were nearing one of Mary’s Field Sites, but before I could focus my mind on what I was about to see, I just had to know—Why the Sonoran?
Mary stopped to answer my question: “The Sonoran desert is one of the most biodiverse deserts in the world,” said Mary. “It is also the only desert with saguaro cactus,” an indicator species, found consistently across the Sonoran desert.
“It is fascinating,” Mary went on, “it gets quite a bit of rain in some areas compared to other deserts.” It also has two rainy seasons—the winter rains and the monsoon rains. These rains bring about changes in the vegetation.
“Rainfall is very localized,” said Mary, contributing to habitat biodiversity, and ultimately, species diversity. Annually, you might get only 3 inches in one location and 20 inches in another.
Thus, though some things are consistent across the Sonoran Desert, like the Saguaro, it is the differences across its range that make the Sonoran Desert a spectacularly special place.
Desert Crust
Satisfied for the moment, Mary brought my attention to a checkerboard pattern of nail heads sticking up out of the soil. Behold—the soil crust experiment.
“Soil crust, which is a community of living things that are very very small and usually slow-growing, covers a lot of the Sonoran Desert,” Mary shared as we looked out on the microcosm. “In an untouched area you will find a lot of soil crust, but with human impact it is one of the first things eliminated.”
Despite the smallness of the community of microbes that create the soil crust, loss of soil crust is a huge deal in the Sonoran Desert! Not only is soil crust incredibly slow-growing (once it is gone it is gone), but soil crust retains water, aids in nutrient cycling, and stabilizes the desert soil.
“Have you heard of the Haboobs?” Mary asked. I hadn’t. “The haboobs are giant clouds of dust— a wall of dust—and they take over the city.” They literally “stop traffic” Adele offered. Why do these dust storms occur? Lack of soil crust.
So again, soil crust is small stuff, but kinda a big deal. As Mary puts it: “soil crust is the skin on the desert.”
Growing Soil Crust
In any event, the “nailhead” soil crust study is an attempt to better understand how soil crusts form. “To see if we can make soil crust faster,” said Mary.
Basically, the Conservancy, with the aid of volunteers, and in partnership with Northern Arizona University and the City of Scottsdale, collected soil crust from a city excavation site. Then took that material and treated it in a variety of ways. And now are watching to see how the microbiota of the soil crust will respond. Some examples of treatments include:1) seeded the soil crust with native seeds, 2) soil crust rolled out on burlap material with minimal disturbance, and 3) crushed and spread soil crust.
We got up as close as possible to see if we could see any developed soil crust but were unsuccessful. Normally the soil crust in the Sonoran Desert is thick and black with microbial growth. At this stage in the study, there was still not a lot to see.
Mary also mentioned that other scientists are trying to characterize the biota of soil crust in various deserts around the country. There is still a lot we don’t know about soil crust communities and how interchangeable, if at all, they are from region to region.
Site of desert crust experiment.
Restore a Desert
We continued on past the sparkling nail-heads of the soil crust experiment, tracing the path of power lines overhead. We even passed a pool of water along the trail, an unusual site to see in the desert.
Eventually, we made it to the next destination on our Preserve tour—the RestoreNet plots. This was the last major site Mary planned to show Adele and me. The RestoreNet site is an old camping and recreation area from before it was part of the Preserve. It was chosen from 67 sites identified via satellite imagery because it was impacted.
Mary explained the purpose of the experiment. “A lot of restoration projects are very localized. Most don’t go very well. There is a lot of seeding failure.” RestoreNet is an answer to this problem. By involving a “network of sites” across the country, the project hopes to provide land managers with more comprehensive information regarding restoration site treatments.
RestoreNet experimental site
Treatments
“We are in charge of four RestoreNet sites in the Sonoran Desert,” said Mary. Each is different in terms of type and degree of impact, but each received the same treatments. At each site, “we have 36 different plots,” said Mary. Half are seeded with a warm mix and half a cool mix, with the exception of four untreated plots.
Mary took us around the site showing off the different treatment plots. There were mulched plots, plots with connectivity modifiers (basically metal stood up on end), seed-only plots, and pit plots.
Though it is still too early to tell what the RestoreNet results will ultimately suggest, there is preliminary data that is interesting. The first year of data gathered on the Colorado Plateau, for example, showed the use of pits did the best.
Though there wasn’t a lot of growth at the RestoreNet site we visited, we did see a few different lupine species in one plot, one of which is part of the cool species seed mix (Lupine sparsiflora or Coulter’s lupine). Mary said she would return in a week to conduct the spring plant monitoring, collecting data at all four sites.
RestoreNet Pit treatment
Dry Winter
With an overall drier winter, the lack of plant emergence in the RestorNet site wasn’t necessarily surprising. The plots are not watered, so just like in a normal situation, the plants are relying on the weather for water.
Thus in addition to the plots, a rain gauge is set up on-site. The rain gauge was a simple plastic gauge holding an inch of water in the center with the ability to collect water beyond this capacity. Adele took a measurement that day and recorded it for the site: “0.57 inches.” “We have had rain here,” said Mary pointedly, so hopefully in a week, the plots will be in bloom.
Adele measuring precipitation using a rain gauge
Desert “Old Growth”
After visiting the RestoreNet site, Mary, Adele, and I took a right onto a trail heading toward Granite Mountain. The path was lined with cactuses, including Buckhorn Cholla and, of course, Saguaro.
I was especially enchanted by the Saguaro cactuses that stood proudly around us. There were so many of different sizes and shapes; many had several arms, the older Saguaro had cavities, and a few were in various states of decay. It reminded me a bit of the old-growth forests of Oregon and I asked Mary to talk more about the significance of Saguaro to the Sonoran Desert ecosystem.
Mary next to a many armed saguaro
Habitat
Saguaros provide excellent habitat for a variety of animals: from Gilded Flicker and Gila Woodpecker who build their homes in its flesh, to Owls and Martins who take advantage of empty cavities. Bats consume the pollen and nectar of the saguaro blossoms and many species eat the moisture-rich fruits of Saguaro in the summer months. A decaying saguaro reveals its internal woody skeleton; this becomes home for other desert species, including insects, snakes, and rodents.
When other sources become scarce, home animals rely on Saguaro for a freshwater source. The Saguaro’s pleated stems allow for expansion and contraction depending on the state of hydration. By feeding off the flesh of the Saguaro, animals like pack rats and mule deer take advantage of the Saguaro’s adaptation to drought.
Saguaro Life
The life of a Saguaro is long and requires certain conditions for success. According to Mary, Saguaros rely on nurse plants for successful germination. Without this protection, their chances of survival are slim.
The Saguaro also takes a long time to grow to their natural height of 35-40 feet over their up to 200-year life spans. Signs posted at the park state that “At age 40, a saguaro is only 3 feet tall.” Arms don’t appear until around 75 to 80 years according to Mary. It is no wonder that Saguaro is a protected species in Arizona.
Young saguaro surviving next to a nurse plant
Notice and Wonder
As we continued up the trail, Mary, Adele, and I continued to observe and identify the plants around us. I asked what else we might notice and wonder about in the Sonoran desert.
“This is the green time of year,” said Mary. “It can be greener, but it is greener than it has been.”
Adele pointed out the small size of the flowers and leaves in the desert. One key way to appreciate the Sonoran Desert is “taking time to see the variety in what others might go by,” Adele suggested. You have to stop and take notice.
So that is what we did.
We saw fairy dusters with their pink and red blooms; Palo Verde trees with their bright green stems and mistletoe growing in their branches. We saw baby Saguaro and old saguaro pods littering the desert floor; ocotillo with their stiff, spindly branches fanning up toward the sky; and many other unidentified blossoms on the desert floor.
Chuparosa brings color to the desert with it’s bright red blooms.
Burning Questions
As we continued our way along, making our loopback toward the parking lot, the conversation shifted back to the priorities of Parsons Field Institute. It was at this point that we noticed several large plots of non-native grasses along the trail.
“Typically in a non-infested area, you would have a lot of space between plants,” explained Mary, but “invasive grasses take over those spaces.”
However, this is only the beginning of the problem. Besides outcompeting many other native plants, invasive grasses “turn brown and catch fire.”
“The Sonoran Desert ecosystem is “not adapted to burn at that intensity and it allows the fire to spread,” said Mary. She added: “The problem is that it is a positive feedback loop,” Essentially, this means that fires promote more fires, as plants adapted to fire like the non-native grasses return following a fire in full force, while others, like Saguaro, take a long time to recover. The result: many areas of the Sonoran desert are shifting toward grassland habitat.
This is “a massive threat to the Sonoran Desert,” Mary stated grimly. Managing the problem is a challenge as well. With a seed bank already established in the park, removal by volunteers is possible, but a constant battle.
Invasive grasses cover the soil.
Climate Change
Shifts in climate change is another area of focus for Parsons Field Institute, but it is hard to say what the long-term impacts of climate change will be. The main focus at the moment is monitoring in order to gather long-term data sets. With the help of over 500 volunteers, Parson’s has been able to monitor butterflies, bats, birds, arthropods, and plant phenology.
Stewards
The sun had sunk lower in the sky, and the large granite boulders that lined the trail were casting long shadows, as we neared the end of our hike.
However, before parting ways, I asked Mary and Adele to tell me more about volunteer opportunities at the conservancy.
According to Mary and Adele, people are involved in the Conservancy in many different ways. Some Stewards learn about the park through educational experiences. Other Stewards participate in research or volunteer restoration hours. Whatever their involvement, the goal is still the same—connection.
Sometimes the connection is deep. Adele told me of instances where people whose experience as a Steward has “shaped their retirement.” While Mary spoke of Stewards that were so deeply involved in science projects, that they consequently were listed as authors on publications.
A big part of the Steward program is “getting people to have a relationship with the land,” said Adele, and there are a lot of different ways that can happen.
No Place Like Home
After parting ways with Mary and Adele, I wandered the trails of the Preserve for a bit longer on my own—opening up my eyes, ears, and nose to the sights, sounds, and smells of the desert. I pondered the outstretched arms of the saguaro and marveled at the rounded rocks that lay jumbled across the landscape.
I spent several more days exploring the Sonoran Desert acquainting myself with its various moods and rhythms.
Adele had mentioned during our hike how my blog post was providing “an outsider perspective.” I can appreciate that.
But, at the same time, when I think about the bold desert sunsets and the moonlit nights, or of early morning bird song and the afternoon drying heat—I don’t feel like an outsider. I feel like I belong —in the wild Sonoran Desert.
Mary Fastiggi is the Parsons Field Institute Coordinator for the McDowell Sonoran Preserve. She has a B.A. in Environmental Studies and History from the University of Michigan and an M.S. from Arizona State University in Sustainability.
Adele Dietrich holds an MBA from Alaska Pacific University, is a Certified Fundraising Executive (CFRE) and holds the Chartered Advisor in Philanthropy (CAP) designation. Her goal is to connect individuals with their philanthropic passion.
Scenery while hiking cross-country through the Flattops.
For me, trying to understand geological time is a bit like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. It takes some serious reshaping before the pieces start to fall into place.
When I met up with Dorenda and Matt Walters, my hiking guides at Petrified Forest National Park, little did I know, just how much mental craftwork I was in for—225 million years’ worth! That is how much life history exists in the park—a seriously mind-boggling sum.
A Long, Long, Long Time Ago
Before setting out on our hike, Dorenda and Matt Walters arranged for a tour of the park’s museum collections. Matt Smith, curator and paleontologist, led us on this venture.
To start, Matt Smith shared a “mental-gymnastic” he uses to try and get his mind around the 225-million-year history:
“T. rex died 66 million years ago,” he explained. “His oldest cousin lived during the Triassic in (what is now) the Petrified Forest 220-225 million years ago. We are looking at more time between T. rex and the oldest dinosaur and T. rex and us. T. rex is closer to the iPad than its earliest ancestor.”
This is the timeframe we are working with—almost four times the amount of time it takes to go from dinosaurs to humans. So, as you can imagine, back then, the Earth was a completely different place.
“This planet was on the other side of the galaxy,” described Matt Smith. The continents were united into one supercontinent—Pangea. It was the dawn of the dinosaurs. Mammals were just getting started. And flowering plants had not even shown up yet.
In other words, it was a long, long, long time ago.
The Box
After his brief introduction to time, Matt Smith led us into the Museum Demonstration Lab, or “the box,” as he called it—a small white room with windows and desks facing outside that allows visitors to glimpse in the “behind the scenes work” paleontologists do at Petrified Forest.
“Fossils are our jam,” said Matt Smith, before introducing us to the room’s current occupants—a metoposaur skull and a phytosaur skull. Each sat on separate desks facing the window, cradled inside their plaster jackets.
Metoposaur
The metoposaur’s fossil skull was roughly triangular and flat or, as Matt Smith put it, “shaped like a toilet seat.”
Overall, metoposaurs were large amphibians, “up to 10 feet” in length, with rough textured skin similar to the bone underneath, and a body plan like a modern-day crocodile, only stouter.
As carnivorous feeders, metoposaurs would sit on river bottoms, “open up their mouths like a bass and feed off whatever came into their mouth,” said Matt Smith.
He pointed to a deeper trench hidden in the texturing of the fossil. He explained how this trench was part of a lateral line system, like fish have. This system would have allowed metoposaurs to sense their prey, even in the murkiest of waters by detecting changes in pressure or electrical pulses.
Metoposaurs were “common everywhere up until the end of the Triassic,” said Matt Smith
Matt Smith standing next to the metoposaur skull in “the box.”
Phytosaur
The phytosaur skull had an even more unusual shape. It looked a bit like an alligator but with a very long snout, and nostrils toward the back of the head, instead of the front.
Phytosaurs were huge, maybe “25-30 feet long,” with long tails and sharp teeth; again, with the body plan of a crocodile. “They were fish eating specialists,” said Matt Smith, “Crocodile-like 80 million years before crocs.”
He went on, “They don’t have common ancestry (with crocodiles) … these guys turned ‘crocodile’ by stretching out their premaxilla.” Crocodiles, on the other hand, stretch out everything in the snout. That is why a phytosaur has nostrils at the back of the head and crocodiles the front.
Crocodiles and phytosaurs are an example of convergent evolution—similar environments, resulting in similar structures on totally separate locations and timelines. When a body plan works, it works!
The phytosaurs are one of several archosaurs that are found at Petrified Forest. Phytosaurs are not dinosaurs and exist on a separate branch of the archosaur family tree. They are a group of reptiles that includes dinosaurs as well as modern birds and crocodiles. Phytosaurs are one of many Triassic archosaurs found in the park. The only two living archosaur groups are crocodilians and birds.
Matt Smith with the phytosaur skull in “the box.”
A Curved Femur
After our visit to “the box,” Matt Smith brought us into the collection rooms. Lined with metal cabinets, the collection room contains hundreds of catalogued artifacts and specimens found in the park.
The first set of specimens Matt Smith introduced us to were fossils from an azendohsaurid reptile.
“This animal wasn’t known in North America,” Matt Smith explained, until 2014 when a weird vertebra, discovered in a loan return, piqued the interest of park staff. Before long, a fossil site filled with azendohsaur fossils was discovered, and 40 different field jackets with specimens were collected.
Now, all these specimens stood in front of us—organized and packed into a short metal cabinet with wheels. Matt Smith pulled open the first drawer. Dozens of tiny femora (upper leg bones), broken from the weight of time, lay arranged in small, labeled boxes.
Matt Smith pointed to one of these fossils with a slight bend in it. “This curve is due to natural disease like rickets,” he remarked.
Other drawers contained other parts. All put together,the azendohsaur was about the size of a medium dog “with a long neck and sprawling leg posture,” described Matt Smith.
Azendohsaurid reptile fossils in a drawer. The curved femur.
Modern Dinosaurs
Next Matt Smith directed our attention to a much larger metal cabinet. “Birds. We have a lot of birds,” he exclaimed as he opened the cabinet and pulled out a drawer. And there they were lined up in a row—dozens of taxidermy birds, from the Northern Flicker to Common Ravens. Matt Smith picked up one of the specimens, a Saw-whet owl—a bird never-before-seen at the park. That is until it was found recently on park grounds, having died of unknown causes.
Now you might be wondering, “why save a bunch of dead birds anyway?”
Well, museum collections are like information investment accounts. The value of the specimens when first catalogued might seem small, but over time, with changes in technology and new scientific questions, a greater value is realized.
As Matt Smith put it, pointing to the tray of birds, “Hopefully, these will help answer questions in the future.”
In addition to modern-day bird specimens, a 220-million-year-old dinosaur fossil was found in the park—the ancestor to modern-day birds. “We have had dinosaurs here longer than anywhere else in North America,” Matt Smith stated. “And we have proof.”
Drawer of varied bird specimens.
People
Closing the bird specimen cabinet, Matt Smith directed us to another similar non-descript case.
Inside was a collection of pottery arranged carefully on pull out trays. The vessels were a variety of shapes and colors, each one carefully decorated.
“People have also been walking around the forest for a long time,” said Matt Smiht. Though not as staggering as the dynasty of archosaur life, human history in the park goes back 13,000 years.
And they are still around today. There are “37 tribes on the land,” he states, referring to the number of tribes that are affiliated with the parklands.
Among the artifacts in the collection were examples of Adamana Brown-style pottery, a form of pottery dating back to around 250 BCE. These early brown and gray ceramic pieces date back to a time when pit house villages sprung up and seasonal farming was a focus.
Later, from 650-950 CE the ceramics changed from plain brown and gray to decorative black-on-white designs and corrugated pieces, a style associated with pueblo development. Then from 950 to 1300 CE ceramics diversified even more, with black-on-red and polychrome examples showing up in the Petrified Forest archeological records.
Many of these forms stood on attention against the stark gray industrial cabinetry.
Drawer of varied pottery.
A Legacy
Matt Smith pointed out a piece that was yellow and brown—a Hopi-style ceramic. “This one is probably 400 to 500 years old,” He said, “fired at a slightly higher temperature,” than the black and white pieces.
He went on to explain how this style of pottery was almost completely lost. He pointed to another piece from the 1960s by Fannie Nampeyo—“the last one who knew how to pot in this style.” Fanny Nampeyo learned from her mother before her, also called Nampeyo, who revitalized the ancient Hopi style in the 1890s. Without the Nampeyo legacy it is possible the Hopi pottery tradition would have been lost.
Turkey Feet or Lung Fish
Before Matt Smith shut the cabinet, a small piece of corrugated pottery caught my eye. Decorated with simple lines that resembled chicken feet, I asked Matt Smith to tell me more about it.
“This is cool to me,” enthused Matt Smith referring to the markings. “One archeologist thought they were turkey feet” he said, but the number of talons does not add up.
“It is not a common design element,” Matt Smith said, while he doubled back to another cabinet behind us and began rummaging around, so “I have my own theory.” He pulled out a small fossil that looked a bit like webbed feet— “lungfish teeth,” Matt Smith exclaimed. He went onto explain how lungfish teeth are common Triassic fossils found in the park and have often been found associated with prehistoric structures.
Could these mystery markings be paying homage to lungfish teeth fossils? We just don’t know.
Lungfish teeth fossils.
Type Cabinet
We had been at it about 30 minutes, when Matt Smith took us to the creme de la crème of the museum collection—”the type cabinet.”
“In natural science, you have got holotypes, explained Matt Smith. “They are the sample—skin, skeleton, genetic material, fossil—that was used to describe a new species. They are the archetype of that animal.” Every other specimen found must be measured against existing holotypes in order to determine if a species is new or not.
Holotypes
Matt Smith showed us a few of the holotypes housed in their museum collections. “some are pretty miserable, said Matt Smith, “a single tooth or claw” might define an entire species. One holotype that Matt showed us was Vancleavea campi, a species of reptile that may have lived more than 11 million years during the Triassic. “Covered with armor… it isn’t related to anything alive today…” said Matt Smith—it was essentially “bulletproof.”
Of course, the challenge with modern-day holotypes is often ethically obtaining a specimen in the first place, especially when the species is rare. To get around this, people often must be creative and very patient. For example, Matt Smith told me about how scientists found a new species of iguana on the Galapagos Islands about 10 years ago. In order to obtain the holotype, they had to find a living iguana that they felt would work, put an RFID chip in it, and sit back and wait for nature to take its course. I believe they are still waiting to this day.
A drawer of holotypes, including Vancleavea campi.
Mussels
Matt Smith also showed us a diversity of Triassic freshwater mussels holotypes. Modern freshwater mussels are “more diverse than anywhere else in the world in North America,” said Matt Smith. But they are in trouble. “These are going extinct faster than any other group of animals in the U.S.,” Matt Smith explained, despite the fact that they are “evil geniuses” according to Matt Smith, able to disperse their young by smuggling a ride on migrating fish.
Collection of mussel holotypes
Plants
Matt Smith also showed us some plant fossils, among them fossil trees. There are “14 species of trees in the park,” according to Matt Smith. However, despite their abundance working with plant fossils is difficult. “Plants never die in one place… they die in parts,” said Matt Smith. You aren’t going to find a complete plant body like you might for an animal. Thus, a plant holotype requires some closer examination. The tree holotypes Matt Smith showed us during our tour were thin sectioned specimens, in order to see the grain of the wood.
The type cabinet looked pretty similar to others we had seen with the exception that it was on wheels. Why? In the case of an emergency, wheels provide a quick getaway. “77 species would be lost if we didn’t have this,” stated Matt Smith.
Drawer of plant holotypes.
What’s the Point?
And on that note, Matt Smith took us around the corner to the back of the collection room we were in. We walked past some furniture built by the CCC (Civilian Conservation Corps) in the 1930s—another layer of human history at the park—and over to a final cabinet filled with artifacts.
The final cabinet we visited that day was filled with small clear packages of artifacts, each filed in equally small boxes. Shells from the Gulf of Mexico, pipestone from Wyoming, obsidian from Flagstaff, turquoise from New Mexico and, of course, petrified wood—each artifact shaped by human hands– telling the story of human migration and technological change in the area.
Matt Smith pulled out several points and talked about their various uses. Like the pottery, Petrified Forest National Park hold a record of points/tools dating back 13,000 years from “Clovis through Folsom, basket maker, and Puebloan.”
Matt Smith described a place in the park, a playa, where some points and a lot of chunks of material (lithic scatter) have been found. “There are petrified wood deposits… and a little rise,” said Matt Smith. The playa would have been filled with water 13,000 years ago, so it would have been the perfect place to both hunt and make points for hunting.
One of many points Matt Smith showed the group.
The Lab
The final stop on our whirl-wind tour was the paleontology lab, so we stepped outside and made our way across the park campus. Before long, Matt Smith ushered us into another non-descript building.
“So, this is the Prep Lab,” Matt Smith exclaimed. “Most of what we do in here is paleontology… we do basic conservation work for non-paleontological stuff… but we do the whole shebang for fossils–from the grave to the cradle.”
Gumby and Reynaldo
Looking around the room, it looked a lot like any other well-lit lab space, but with a couple rather large fossils sitting out in their plaster casts on lab benches.
“This is Gumby, a phytosaur skull,” said Matt Smith. The fossil was in disrepair—the back end of Gumby lay in a plaster jacket in two pieces. Apparently, Gumby got its name because it is bendy, but also likes to break; so, after two or three breaks, the staff decided to create a mold of it. Matt Smith told me that the plan is to use casts from Gumby and several other individuals to create a replica of a phytosaur skull for display. He showed me a partial cast of a phytosaur jaw made from two fossils cobbled together.
Matt with a cast of a phytosaur fossil.
“And here is Reynaldo,” said Matt Smith, “he’s a big sexy beast.” Collected in 2016, Reynaldo has been an on again off again project for several years now— “probably three or four hundred hours” put into preparing the fossil, said Matt Smith but now “it is really close.” With a little more reconstruction of the face—and lots of glue and plastic—the staff hopes to get him stabilized soon.
The reconstruction of Reynaldo.
The Small Stuff
As Matt Smith grumbled a bit about the frustrating nature of larger pieces like Reynaldo and Gumby, he directed the group toward the back corner and another shiny metal cabinet.
“My heart lies more with stuff like this,” said Matt Smith as he pulled out a drawer and pulled out a small vial with a tiny fossil inside. “All these tiny little fossils to me are a lot more fascinating…
I can prep them out in a day or two, and I can store a lot of them, and it’s just way more rewarding if you ask me,” he explained.
A drawer of small fossils.
Origin of Lizards
In order to study the small fossils, they are sent to another lab for a Micro-CT. This sort of imaging is like a regular CT scan, only more intense and the scan machine is much smaller, fitting on a desktop. The Micro-CT can get finer detail with micron-size slices of images captured. The information from the Micro-CT can then be used to print a blown-up plastic version of the fossil using a 3D printer.
Matt Smith held up an example of a 3D printed jaw of a reptile that had been enlarged from just 1 cm long to at least 10x its original size.
Matt Smith pointed to a ridge running along the skull. “You can see things like the tunnel running through there…” he said. This type of detail is brought out through the printing process.
It also turns out the 3D printed jaw that Matt Smith was holding was from a Tuatara. Now found only in New Zealand, these creatures were common during the Triassic and beyond. They are like lizards, but with less flexible jaws and fused teeth that allow them to chomp down on and chew their prey.
Finding Triassic Tuatara-like fossils in the park provides a useful link to the origins of lizards. “Lizards replace them,” explained Matt Smith, “It was like this ecological arms race.” Two reptile groups pitted against each other for survival.
When you walk through the park today, all you see are lizards, but “they are here now because of this struggle that occurred 220 million years ago,” said Matt Smith.
And with that, Matt Smith shooed us out to enjoy the rest of our day. We were just getting started.
3D print of Tuatara jaw.
Heading Back in Time
With my brain crammed full of information, it was finally time to head out into the park. We said our goodbyes to Matt Smith the paleontologist, and Dorenda, Matt Walters, and I, hopped in our cars to begin the 28-mile drive through Petrified National Forest Park.
Heading south, we drove past the Painted Desert and pulled off for a quick stop at the Blue Mesa Member of the Park to look at some petrified wood.
“The youngest part is 209 million year ago, up where we first started,” explained Dorenda, “in the Painted Desert with the red badlands.”
Now we were looking out at 217-million-year-old badlands of greys, blues, and greens. With puffy white clouds dancing across the otherwise expansive bright blue sky and casting shadows, the view was breathtaking.
The view over the Blue Mesa badlands.
Keystone Arch
Hidden amongst the bentonite clay hills, were petrified logs of various sizes and shape—each also uniquely colored.
“The theme of this park is erosion, erosion, erosion,” said Dorenda, as Matt Walters led us out into the colorful environment. It is through the action of water and wind that the petrified logs that the park is famous for are revealed over time.
Matt and Dorenda stopped in front of one of these logs that arched its way from one side of a small gully to another.
“This is a really special petrified log,” explained Dorenda, “this one is called Keystone Arch.” Aptly named—the single log was several pieces—held together by touch points between each piece. It was beautiful, but temporary structure. The process of erosion, already acting day-by-day to bring the arch down.
Keystone Arch.
Distinct Species
I asked Dorenda and Matt Walters if they knew what species of tree Keystone Arch was made from. They told me there was no way of knowing without looking at the cellular structure. Most of the tree species, with a few exceptions, are too difficult to identify without this level of detail. “There were over 1,000 species,” explained Dorenda.
Of course, some are more commonly found in certain locations. The north end of the park is called “the Black Forest,” for example, and the petrified wood there tends to be darker in color because of differences in fossilization.
“It is just like forests today,” said Matt, “different trees in different areas.”
Petrification
Scattered around the base of Keystone Arch were several pieces of petrified wood of various sizes and colors. This, of course, begs the question: “Why is there so much petrified wood in the park?”
Dorenda explained that during the Triassic Period the Petrified Forest would have been on a large supercontinent called Pangea, very tropical, and very wet—with many freshwater streams, swamps, and lakes—and of course lots of trees, some over 200 feet tall.
This combination of trees and water meant that many trees after death were toppled, as streams undercut their banks. These dead trees, often stripped of branches and bark, might then be transported downstream, collect in areas where water slows, and become buried in sediments where decay is inhibited.
“This area would have been a converging of waterways, and just a big damming of logs,” explained Dorenda.
A piece of colorful petrified wood found near keystone arch.
Colored Stone
Blues, reds, oranges, yellows, purples, and blacks—a palette of colors can be seen in each petrified log. The colors develop in the log next in the petrification process as mineral-rich groundwater travels through the logs.
The petrified wood is mostly quartz minerals or silicon dioxide. For this reason, “you need silica for petrification,” said Dorenda. In other words, you need volcanic material. Since there is not much of a history of volcanism in the area, much of the material was blown in from the west during the Triassic.
“Silica adheres to organic cells,” Dorenda went on, so as the silica-rich water percolates down into the earth and reaches a buried log, it enters the wood and stops. The silica alters the wood into opal, replicating its features, and eventually transforming the wood into crystalline quartz over millions of years.
And the colors? “As the silica solution goes through the earth it picks up minerals,” Dorenda explained. Pure quartz is colorless. It is minerals like iron oxide or manganese that are responsible for the kaleidoscope of colors present in the stone. According to Dorenda, iron oxides can create colors from yellow to red, even purple depending on the level of oxidation. Manganese creates dark woods from purple to jet black.
Some of the logs found in the Petrified Forest look a lot more like wood than stone. These logs, Dorenda explained, would have started to decay early on–creating inorganic cells that the silica dioxide won’t adhere to—resulting in weaker, lighter permineralized logs.
Matt and Dorenda had me hold a piece of each type of log in my hands so I could feel the difference in weight. Both felt heavy like stone, but the agatized stone was a bit heavier. “One cubic foot of agatized wood weights 160 lbs,” said Matt.
At this point, Dorenda, Matt, and I navigated our way through the badlands and back to our cars to continue our journey through geological time.
Pieces of permineralized wood scattered on the ground.
The Flattops
I followed Matt and Dorenda further south into the park, before reaching a small pullout adjacent to “The Flattops.” Here we met up with fossil preparator and paleontologist, Diana Boudreau, for the main event—a hike into the badlands.
After some quick hellos and grabbing our gear, we got moving right away.
I looked out onto the unmarked terrain. Like our earlier stop, there were flat topped mesas and rolling hills—only this time in shades of grey and red brown. Despite the similar feel of an alien landscape, this section of the park marks a different time frame from our early stop at Blue Mesa—moving us forward in time to about 213 million years ago.
“The Blue Mesa region is mostly composed of the Sonsela Member. Here, we see the Flattops Beds of the Petrified Forest Member sitting just on top of Sonsela,” remarked Diana as we descended from the road into the backcountry.
“The Flattops,” as seen from the road.
Older than Dinosaurs
Making our way cross-country, with Matt in the lead, I asked Diana to tell me more about the park’s geology.
“So, the whole park is Late Triassic in age,” Diana began, and represents a range of time from 208 to 228 million years. “That is most of what is exposed here.”
Most of the fossils found in the park are not dinosaur—a common misconception–she added. Instead, they are from a much older, larger group of reptiles called archosaurs. Distinguishable by differences in ankle and hip bones, archosaurs are the Triassic ancestors of many later lineages, including birds, crocodiles, and dinosaurs.
Geological Members
With the main fossil bearing members including the Blue Mesa, Sonsela, and Petrified Forest members, Diana continued. Each member is distinct from the others based on certain traits, like depositional environment.
“We will be crisscrossing between Sonsela and Petrified Forest,” Diana remarked—moving between 216-million-year-old deposits of cross-bedded sandstone and 213-million-year-old mudstones and sandstones. Our footsteps dancing back and forth through time.
Cryptobiotic Soils
Matt set the pace, while Dorenda, Diana, and I followed closely behind. Watching our footsteps along the way. One of the first lessons for backcountry travel is to watch your step. Not only are there hazards to look out for, but crypotobiotic soils to protect.
A cryptobiotic soil is a dark soil crust that is formed by a suite of organisms, like fungi, lichen, bacteria, and algae, over long periods of time. These organisms are “the first biologic that grows in a sandy, arid environment,” explained Dorenda and they build up the soil in such a way that it benefits plant life and prevents soil erosion.
However, one misstep and 50 years of microbial work can be completely dismantled. Dorenda and Matt pointed out some cryptobiotic soil growing near a plant. It looked a bit like moss growing on a rock, but darker.
All the wiser, we side stepped the growing mat and continued on our way.
Cryptobiotic soil found on the hike.
Human “Footprints”
As we hiked, our footprints marked our path across the desert—a path that would later be washed away with the next rainfall. However, these were not the only signs of human presence during our walk.
Not too long after finding the cryptobiotic soil, we passed by a couple of pottery sherds —archeological artifacts of human habitation hundreds of years old—the first of many.
One of the first pottery sherds we passed during our hike.
A while later, we came across a surveying “benchmark”—a point of reference for mapping. The date on the patinated copper surface read 1921—100 years prior to our hike across the desert; placed by the U.S. General Land Office Survey before USGS existed. One-hundred years ago the park was newly established and the first phytosaur fossil found in the area was being described.
These were early human “footprints”—impressions of a past that exists in clues and signs.
A survey marker, or benchmark from 1921.
Geology
For Diana, Matt, Dorenda, and I time passed quickly—both literally and figuratively—as we walked over the undulating hills.
At one point, Diana stopped abruptly. “This is a nice vantage point to talk about the geology here,” she remarked.
Looking out to our left was a steep, eroding cliffside with horizontal bands of varying shades of brown. Diana directed our attention toward these bands. “This view shows a lot of the different flattops beds,” she said pointing.
Diana then went on to describe each layer as a numbered unit starting with a section of sandstone at the top, followed by alternating layers of mudstone and sandstone. She explained how each deposit would have been laid down by a braided stream system—with sandy material deposited in the stream bed and more silty/muddy material along the banks.
The units we were looking at represented a time spanning about 1 million years from 213 to 212 million-years-ago. Starting with Petrified Forest Member Flattops beds at the top and the more rounded Sonsela Member at the base of the cliff. Each layer was thick, indicating a water rich environment over the 1 million years, but would have differed in the type of watery environment and the organisms that lived in that place at the time.
Diana pointing out the geological units.
Petrified Peat
As we continued hiking atop the Sonsela hills, Diana and I chatted, while Matt and Diana led the way, eventually stopping near what looked to me like a short fence made of solid rock—a line of stone stuck out of the ground vertically.
“This area here is what we called silcrete,” said Dorenda. “Remember when we talked about the petrified wood and we talked about those giant logs? And how as the water took its toll the branches and bark and everything would be gone?” she asked me.
Well, according to Dorenda, silcrete is the result. Waterways collect all the partially decomposed wood bits in one place where they undergo the same process as the logs and are petrified. “It is kind of like petrified peat,” Dorenda stated.
Standing on End
Of course, usually, silcrete is laid down in horizontal layers. The silcrete here was vertical. Making the spot a bit of a geological mystery, as there is no sign of faulting that might normally turn rock on end.
“It is theorized that there was some sort of pressure that pushed it up through the sandstone, filling in the gaps,” Dorenda told us.
“You will find silcrete through the whole park,” said Matt, but vertical layers like this “can only be found in two places.”
Petrified peat, or silcrete, creating a vertical “fence.”
Wandering the Wilderness
After ample time spent taking pictures of the silcrete anomaly, the four of us continued our hike under blue, cloud-spotted skies.
With Matt Leading the way, Dorenda, Diana and I hung back and discussed a variety of topics from career choices to canyoneering, before the conversation shifted to the preservation of natural and ecological resources.
The Petrified Forest National Park was one of the first National Parks to have land set aside as designated wilderness in 1970. Wilderness is the highest form of protection public lands receive—restricting access to those on foot and limiting human impact.
However, the Petrified Forest is unique in that it offers hikers and backpackers the opportunity to explore outside of a designated trail. In fact, it is encouraged, as there are no major trail systems in the park.
Of course, “leave no trace” principles still apply and often require extra consideration, especially in a place like Petrified Forest where archaeological artifacts and fossils are abundant. Even taking pictures requires special consideration to preserve the location of unique places that might draw crowds that may end up impacting the park negatively. Dorenda and Diana both expressed concerns about protecting artifacts and other special place locations. “It’s a weird line,” said Dorenda, but an important one, not only for the resources being protected but often the safety of visitors to public lands as well.
Matt leading the way, leaving nothing but footprints.
An Eye
By this time, we were at least a couple of miles into the wilderness and the road where we started was a distant memory. Lost in the vastness of the wilderness (but not really lost thanks to our guide Matt), I asked Dorenda and Matt if they had any advice for those visiting the park, or any other natural place, for the first time.
Dorenda spoke first. “Take the time to see the micro and macro view,” she said. “Do a 360,” she suggested. She told me that she tends to keep her eyes to the ground. It takes deliberate effort to stop and look around. But taking in both views will help you better appreciate all aspects of the park.
In addition, “I think you develop an eye for things,” she went on. Whatever you are looking for, whether it’s fossils, petroglyphs, or something else, if you learn what to look for you get better at finding it. Look for contrasts, different colors, textures, and size and that will help you
A Guide
Matt had a different take. “It is all being passed down,” responded Matt. Learning about a place from others that know a lot more than you do can really help enrich your experience.
“We had two mentors. They taught us a ton because they had to teach us the hikes,” he continued. “We were like kids in a candy store because we were learning so much.”
Taking it further, Matt recommends sharing what you learn. “The key this for us is to pass it onto people,” he remarked.
Having spent more than half the day with Dorenda and Matt, I was able to see this key in action. And let me tell you, they are well practiced.
Candy store, Matt? More like Wonka’s Chocolate Factory!
Matt and Dorenda Walters leading the way.
Finding Fossils
One thing to know about Matt, is that when he slows down on a hike, it is time to look around.
It was getting near lunch time, and we had picked up the pace in an effort to make it to a lunch spot Matt and Dorenda suggested, so when Matt stopped abruptly, we knew there must be something interesting nearby.
Diana spotted it right away—a fossil! Laying on the dry desert floor was a small fossil of a bone, about the size and length of a snickers bar. It had a crackled texture and was broken in one place.
“I think it is a phytosaur rib,” said Matt.
Diana looked closely and agreed that “it was the right size for a phytosaur.” Definitely a long bone—either “a process from the vertebra or could be a rib,” she said.
She picked it up and we looked closely at the fossil, pointing out the cellular structure visible in fossil bones before laying it back down.
I tried to imagine a large reptile sitting in a swamp waiting for its prey, but it only made me think of my own lunch waiting ahead of me.
A long bone fossil found during the hike.
Keep Looking
Continuing along we saw several more artifacts laying on the desert floor—including a piece of a corrugated pot and another fragment of a vessel with a small hole in it.
Before long we had reached our lunch site, but we weren’t “allowed” to eat just yet. Matt said that I would need to “earn my keep first,” as there was another artifact nearby and it was my job to spot it.
After several painful minutes of trying to spot what I thought would be pottery or a fossil, Matt guided my eyes to a faint figure inscribed onto a dark colored rock—a rock I had been staring at for a good three minutes, at least.
Petroglyphs
The petroglyph in front of me was the impression of an animal of some sort—carved into the dark desert varnish growing on a rock. The image was faded—the result of time passed—as the bacterial growth responsible for the varnish was starting to repopulate the etched-out areas.
“These are probably over 1000 years old,” said Matt regarding the petroglyph.
Looking closely at the rock you could see small dimples formed the petroglyph impression. Matt explained that the petroglyphs would have been chiseled into the rock, probably using a tool made from petrified wood and a hammer stone.
Having “earned by keep,” we found some other stones to sit on and enjoyed a leisurely lunch basking in the warm desert sun.
Can you see the petroglyph?
Artifact Delights
After lunch, things really got moving, as we drew closer to a larger archaeological site in the area.
Diana spotted a small unionid bivalve shell, or mussel, from one of the many species common in the area.
Matt Walters also led us past a vertebra fossil and a collection of other fossilized bone fragments, as well as several fragments of broken pottery, before reaching the piece de resistance—the site of several ancient Puebloan pit houses.
The mussel shell Diana found during the hike.
As Matt, Dorenda, Diana, and I neared what I later learned was a pit house village, we started seeing more pottery fragments, as well as several other archeological artifacts.
The pottery was of various colors and textures and used a variety of design elements—there were white and black pieces, fragments of grayware and corrugated pieces, as well as some decorative edges and unique shapes. Dorenda explained how some of the pottery would have been traded into the region, while other pieces were likely made by the local people.
Flakes from arrowhead and other tool-making also scattered the ground in colorful abundance. It was fun to pick out some favorite pieces to admire before moving to the next.
One of many pottery shards found during the hike.`Flake of petrified wood found during our hike.
Pit House Village
The density of the pieces continued to increase as we neared a few mounds of rocky earth—we had arrived at the pit houses. Matt Walters estimated that there were probably three dwellings in the area. And what a view! I guess the old adage “location, location, location…” is more ancient than I thought.
The pit houses themselves would have been built by stacking rock vertically and digging down into the earth. Then a roof would be fashioned out of whatever materials were available. There would have been a garden of squash, beans, and corn in the area and probably some storage pits as well. Though the pit houses were permanent dwellings, they were often only used seasonally.
Looking down on the pit house site. What a view!
Pit House Treasures
The areas around the pit house ruins contained many more archaeological treasures. Dorenda showed me a rounded stone, about the size of a human hand. “It’s a hammerstone,” she said. “You can tell it has been used because it has chips in it.” The stone was heavy in my hands.
We also saw several large grindstones comprised of a large flat stone, called a metate, and a smooth stone with a shape suitable for grinding. The metate was ground down and smoother with use.
We also saw several unique pottery pieces, some so fragile that we avoided picking them up, including a small piece that had a handle and looked a bit like a ladle.
A hammerstone
A grindstone. One of several metate found during our hike.
Fragment of pottery with handle.
Weather or Not
After visiting the pit houses, we slowly curved our way back toward the cars. There were still plenty of artifacts to see, including several intact arrowheads and many more flakes of petrified wood. Matt Walters led us around to all the fascinating finds as we hiked.
We passed by another petroglyph site, before heading into a canyon between two flat topped Mesas. Though dry as a bone at the time, Matt and Dorenda told Diana and I how once they had found the canyon impassable from flood waters. “This was a roaring river,” said Dorenda. Though rain might not be frequent in the area, flash floods do occur.
The lasting influence of rain could also be seen on the canyon walls—gullys and rills marked the paths of past water events. There were also large holes at the base of some of the hillsides, created by the movement of water along paths inside the Earth that widened over time.
Looking up, the hills wore sandstone caps—created by the weathering of the softer mudstone below. Giving the place an overall hoodoo-like quality.
Sandstone caps on top of softer mudstone.
The CCC
We continued to follow the dry riverbed into the canyon. Large jumbles of rocks lined our path most of the way.As I considered these large fallen stones, Matt Walters slowed his pace again. Sitting amongst the rocks was a long piece of wood.
Matt Walters inquired— “Who had a big impact on the park?” He asked.
“The CCC,” he said, after some deliberation.
According to Matt Walters, the Civilian Conservation Corps were in the park from July 1934 to 1938. The long piece of wood was an artifact of that time. “The CCC had a flagstone quarry,” Matt explained, “we think this is part of the quarry.”
In addition to the quarry, the CCC built the Painted Desert Inn and dug a 16-mile irrigation system in one years’ time. With current regulations and protection for archeological and paleontological resources stricter, it took three years to replace that same waterline in 2016. Matt Walters chuckled at the irony.
A long piece of wood.
My Own Eyes
Just a bit further down the wash, I had my own fun. Hidden amongst the rocks, I made my first solo fossil discovery—another freshwater bivalve shell lay on the ground. I called out to the rest of the group to share in my triumph. Then I took a few pictures of the fossil shell before placing it back on the ground for another to find.
A Few More Petroglyphs
As the sun sunk a bit lower in the sky, we entered the last leg of our journey which brought us to a couple more incredible petroglyph sites.
At one site there were several large stones decorated with at least a dozen figures, ranging from bear claws of various shapes and sizes to what looks like a coyote. Human figures were also displayed on the slab that was probably about as long as I am tall.
Petroglyphs covered several large slabs of rock at this site.
The last petroglyph site was a bit more of mystery. Here a large rock was marked with several dot-arrays, a couple of straight-lined figures, and a set of zig zags as a border. The whole display seemed to be conveying some sort of information, but what?
Matt, Dorenda, Diana, and I all puzzled over it, offering hunches and second guesses as to its meaning, before moving on.
Petroglyph with mysterious message.
Stone Tree
Just before hitting the road and leaving behind our backcountry adventure, I noticed a lone piece of petrified wood sitting quietly on the brown, cracked Earth.
Perhaps I was developing “an eye” for this unique desert environment because I felt drawn to it. So much so that I snapped a quick picture.
A few moments later, after goodbyes and well wishes, I was back in my car, driving the lonely road to my home for the night.
Last picture of the day.
A Snapshot
The picture of the log is the last one that I took that day. Looking at it now, I still feel its call. A call to a time before the dinosaurs—to swamps and rivers hidden in a now desert landscape. To a time where people lived in pit houses and hand-crafted stone tools and beautiful pottery. A call to modern-day adventures and new friends. And finally, a call to return to this place someday in the future—to remember, while discovering the past, all over again.
Dorenda and Matt Walters are long-time volunteers for Petrified Forest National Park, guiding park guests on fabulous cross-country hikes each weekend. Diana Boudreau is a paleontologist and fossil preparator at Petrified Forest National Park. Matt Smith is the long-time museum curator for Petrified Forest National Park.
