Click to embiggen. Trust me.

Last year about this time I wrote:

Here’s a stupid thing: roughly 2-3 times a year I go to the field or to a museum and get hundreds of SV-POW!-able photos. Then I get back to the world and catch up on all of the work that piled up while I was away. And by the time I’m done with that, whatever motivating spark I had – to get some of those photos posted and talk about the exciting things I figured out – has dissipated.

The museum I was thinking about more than any other when I wrote that is the Museum of Osteology in Oklahoma City. I don’t get there every year, but I stop in as often as possible, and I make it more years than not. And yet, looking back through the archives I see that almost all of my posts about the Museum of Osteology came in a brief flurry five years ago. Shameful!

This summer I was out in the Oklahoma panhandle for fieldwork with Anne Weil, then I had a very quick day in the collections at the OMNH in Norman, then I had to drop my son London with relatives (he stayed for an extra week) and hop a plane home. In between the kid hand-off and the drop-dead get-to-the-airport time I had exactly one spare hour, so of course I hit the museum.

IMG_0571

UPDATE: for the curious, here’s the signage for the hanging humpback whale skeleton.

The Museum of Osteology is easily one of my favorite natural history museums in the world. Like all my favorite museums, it just packed to the gills with actual natural history objects. The signage is tasteful, informative, and discreet, and there is a blessed absence of blaring videos, rotating 3D whatsits, and interactive geegaws to ruin the experience.* You can walk all the way around the big mounted skeletons with no glass in the way. The staff are friendly and helpful, and as you can see from the photos, they even provide comfortable benches for people who wish to sit and ponder the endless forms most beautiful.

That, folks, is a damn fine museum.

* To be clear, I don’t think all videos and interactive displays are evil. But they need to enhance the experience of natural history, not be a substitute for it, and that’s a distinction that seems lost on many exhibit designers.

I was taken by this conjunction of two water-adapted artiodactyls.

Here’s the hippo by itself if you want the whole skeleton.

And a rhino to round out the big African megafauna. I showed the giraffe in this old post.

Even familiar animals that you may think you know front-to-back are often presented in new and interesting ways. I adore this horse skull, which has the maxilla and mandible dissected to show the very tall, ever-growing teeth, which erupt continuously through the horse’s life until the crowns are entirely worn away.

The textures on this giraffe skull are pretty mind-blowing.

I strongly recommend zooming in and tracing out some blood vessel pathways, especially over the orbit, at the bases of the ossicones, and in the temporal fossa (below the ossicones and behind the orbit).

Bottom line, if you are interested in the natural world at all, you owe it to yourself to visit this museum. And you’ll want to go as heavy in the wallet as you can manage, because the gift shop is ridiculous and can easily eat 30-45 minutes and all your disposable income. Take it from a survivor.

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I did a fieldwork!

This is going to set new records for “almost too late to be worth posting”, but here goes.

First up, this Wednesday evening, Oct. 18, at 6:00 PM (in about 18 hours), while most of the paleontologists in the West are at SVP in Albuquerque, I will giving a public lecture at the Canyonlands Natural History Assocation’s Moab Information Center, at the corner of Main St. and Center in Moab (link). The talk is titled, “Lost worlds of the Jurassic: Diverse dinosaurs and plants in the lower Morrison Formation of south-central Utah”, and it is free to the public. It’s a report on the fieldwork I’ve been doing in the Morrison Formation of southern Utah for the past few summers with John Foster, Brian Engh, and Jessie Atterholt. I promise lots of pretty pictures and probably more yapping about sauropods than anyone really needs. Did I mention it’s free? I hope to see you there.

Second, I will be at SVP myself, for a bit. Basically Friday night and Saturday. Gotta catch up with collaborators and go see Brian Engh pick up his Lanzendorf Paleoart Prize Saturday night. Why do you care? Western University of Health Sciences has an open position for an anatomist, and a lot of paleo folks have anatomy training, so…if you are interested in this position specifically, or if you have general questions about what it’s like to be a paleontologist teaching gross anatomy at a med school (spoiler: mostly awesome), come find me sometime Friday evening or Saturday and chat me up. I’ll probably be roaming the hallways and talking with folks instead of attending talks (sorry, talk-givers–you all rock, I’m just too slammed this year). And if you are on the job market, have some anatomy experience, and aren’t allergic to sun, palm trees, and amazing colleagues, please consider applying for the position. We’re taking applications through October 26, so don’t tarry. Here’s that link again.

Ripple rock. Not from the Morrison, but from the overlying Dakota – Lower Cretaceous.

Now this is from the Morrison. My son, London, spotted this tiny tooth of a Jurassic croc while working in the quarry. That’s my thumb and London’s index finger for scale.

London’s index finger again, pointing at a different Morrison tooth. This one’s from a theropod, still exposed in a sandstone block in one of Stovall’s old quarries from the 1930s.

On a completely different hillside, I spotted this skull, of a modern rodent. Vole, maybe? Not my bailiwick, but if you know who this belongs to, let me know in the comments.

Moonrise – and the end of this post. Catch you in the future.

Afield in Oklahoma

June 25, 2018

Clouds over Black Mesa.

Baby spadefoot toad, with my index finger for scale.

Someone was here before us. Even though Black Mesa is best known for its Morrison exposures and giant Jurassic dinosaurs, there are Triassic rocks here, too, which have produced both body fossils and tracks, including these.

Seen but not photographed today:

  • a group of pronghorn by the side of the road, with two babies;
  • a deer that ran across the road right in front of our vehicle;
  • a wild turkey foraging in the ditch next to the road;
  • a few jackrabbits, and more cottontails than you can shake a stick at;
  • loads of prairie dogs.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go watch a thunderstorm.

Last Wednesday, May 9, Brian Engh and I bombed out to Utah for a few days of paleo adventures. Here are some highlights from our trip.

We started at a Triassic tracksite on Thursday. But I’m not going to post any pictures of the tracks – those will be coming to a Brian Engh joint near you in the future. Instead, I’m going to talk about this little male collared lizard whose territory included the tracksite. He was fearless – didn’t want to run off and leave us yahoos wandering around his patch of desert unsupervised. Brian tickled his chin at one point.

Getting this close to him is how I got shots like this one:

Click through to the big version, it’s worth it.

One more shot of a couple of cool desert dwellers. I was so fixated on the lizard that I didn’t realize until later that Brian was in the frame, taking a much-needed hydration break.

On Friday we had a temporary breaking of the fellowship. I went to Fruita, Colorado, to visit the Dinosaur Journey museum. You’ve seen photos from DJ here before, from the 2014 Mid-Mesozoic Field Conference and the 2016 Sauropocalypse. Here’s an apatosaur pubis with some obvious bite marks on the distal end. This is on display next to a similarly-bitten ischium, which is shown in the MMFC14 post linked above.

Here’s a big apatosaur cervical, in antero-ventral view, with a dorsal rib draped over its left side. The cervical ribs are not fused in this specimen, so it was probably still growing. Here’s a labeled version:

The short centrum and nearly-vertical transverse processes indicate that this is a pretty posterior cervical, possibly a C13 or thereabouts. This specimen was over the fence in the exhibit area and I couldn’t throw a scale bar at it, but I’d describe it as “honkin'”. Like most of the apatosaur material at DJ, this vert is from the Mygatt-Moore Quarry.

Of course the real reason I was at Dinosaur Journey was to see the Snowmass Haplocanthosaurus that John Foster and I described back in 2014. You may remember that its caudal vertebrae have wacky neural canals. You may also have noticed a recent uptick in the number of posts around here about wacky neural canals. The game is afoot.

But as cool as they were, the Triassic tracks, the collared lizard, and even the Snowmass Haplo were only targets of opportunity. Brian and I had gone to Utah for this:

That photo was taken by Paige Wiren of Salt Lake City, on the day that she discovered that bone eroding out of a riverbank, just as you see it.

Here’s Paige with the element, which proved to be the left femur of an apatosaurine sauropod. It’s face down in these photos, so we’re looking at the medial side. The articular head is missing from the proximal end – it should be facing toward Paige’s right knee in the above photo – but other than that and a few negligible nicks and dings, the femur was complete and in really good shape.

Paige did the right thing when she found the femur: she contacted a paleontologist. Specifically, she asked a friend, who in turn put her in touch with Carrie Levitt-Bussian, the paleontology Collections Manager at the Natural History Museum of Utah. Based on Paige’s photos and maps, Carrie was able to identify the element as a dinosaur femur, probably sauropod, within the territory of the BLM Hanksville Field Office. John Foster, the Director of the Museum of Moab, has a permit to legally collect vertebrate fossils from that area, and he works on sauropods, so Carrie put Paige in touch with John and with ReBecca Hunt-Foster, the district paleontologist for the BLM’s Canyon Country District in Utah.

Now, I know there’s a lot of heated rhetoric surrounding the Bureau of Land Management, but whatever your political bent, remember this: those are our public lands. Therefore the fossils out there are the collective property of all of us, and we should all be upset if they get poached or vandalized. Yes, that is a big problem – the Brontomerus type quarry was partially poached before the bones we have now were recovered, and vandalism at public fossil sites in Utah made the national news while we were out there.

So that’s what we went to do: salvage this bone for science and education before it could be lost to erosion or asshats. Brian and I were out there to assist John, ReBecca, and Paige, who got to see her find come out of the ground and even got her hands dirty making the plaster jacket. Brian and John headed out to the site Friday morning and met up with Paige there, and ReBecca and I caravanned out later in the day, after I got back from Fruita.

But I’m getting ahead of myself a bit. We didn’t have to jacket the whole thing. It had naturally broken into three pieces, with thin clay infills at the breaks. So we just slid the proximal and middle thirds away as we uncovered them, and hit any loose-looking pieces with consolidant. The distal third was in more questionable shape, so we did make a partial jacket to hold it together.

We also got to camp out in gorgeous country, with spectacular (and welcome) clouds during the day and incredible starry skies at night.

We floated the femur out of the site using the Fosters’ canoe at the end of the day on Saturday, and loaded up to head back to Moab on Sunday. At one point the road was empty and the sky was not, so I stood on the center line and took some photos. This one is looking ahead, toward I-70 and Green River.

And this one is looking behind, back toward Hanksville.

Here are John and Brian with the femur chunks in one of the back rooms of the Museum of Moab. The femur looks oddly small here, but assembled it was 155 cm (5’1″) long and would have been 160 (5’3″) or more with the proximal head. Smaller than CM 3018 and most of the big mounted apatosaurs, but nothing to sneeze at.

What happens to it next? It will be cleaned, prepped, and reassembled by the volunteers and exhibit staff at the Museum of Moab, and eventually it will go on public display. Thousands of people will get to see and learn from this specimen because Paige Wiren made the right call. Go thou and do likewise.

That was the end of the road for the femur (for now), but not for Brian and me. We had business in Cedar City and St. George, so we hit the road Sunday afternoon. Waves of rainclouds were rolling east across Utah while we were rolling west, with breaks for sunlight in between. I miiiight have had to swerve a couple of times when all the scenery distracted me from driving, and I definitely made an obnoxious number of stops to take pictures.

I don’t remember which scenic overlook this was, but it was a pretty darned good view. This is another one that will reward embiggening – check out those mesas marching off into the distance.

In Cedar City we were guests of Andrew R.C. Milner, Site Paleontologist and Curator at the St. George Dinosaur Discovery Site at Johnson Farm (SGDS). We spent most of Monday at SGDS, getting our minds comprehensively blown by the amazing trace and body fossils on display. It was my first time visiting that museum, but it sure as heck won’t be the last.

I didn’t take nearly enough photos in St. George – too busy helping Brian do some filming for a future project – but I did get this gem. This is a Eubrontes track, from a Dilophosaurus-sized theropod. This is a positive track, a cast of the dinosaur’s foot made by sandy sediment that filled the natural mold formed when the dino stepped into mud. The high clay content of the mud recorded the morphology of the foot in fine detail, including the bumps of individual scales on the foot pads. The vertical streaks were cut into the side of the track by similar scales as the animal’s foot pushed into the mud.

The full story of the Johnson Farm tracks and trackmakers is beautifully told in the book Tracks in Deep Time: The St. George Dinosaur Discovery Site at Johnson Farm, by Jerry Harris and Andrew Milner. I hadn’t read it before, so I picked up a copy in the gift shop and I’ve been devouring it. As a professional scientist, educator, and book author myself, I’m jealous of what Jerry and Andrew produced – both the text and the abundant full-color illustrations are wonderfully clear, and the book is well-produced and very affordable.

From St. George we hit the road home, and rolled into Claremont just before midnight on Monday. It was a whirlwind tour – 1800 miles, three museums, and two fossil sites in six days – and my brain is still fizzing with all of the things we got to see and do.

One of the many pros of having a professional artist as a friend is that minimal hospitality, like letting him crash on my couch, is sometimes rewarded with original art. Brian was already gone when I got up Tuesday morning, but this was waiting for me on the dining room table. (Want your own? Help Brian make more monsters here.)

I owe plenty of thanks myself: to the Foster and Milner families for their near-maximal hospitality, to Julia McHugh of Dinosaur Journey for assistance in collections, to Diana Azevedo, Jalessa Spor, Jerry Harris, and the rest of the SGDS staff for being such gracious hosts, to Brian for being such a great friend and traveling companion, and most of all to Paige Wiren for finding the apato femur and helping us save it for science. You’re all top-notch human beings and I hope our paths cross again soon.

Here at SV-POW!, we’re just not having it.

Photo by Liguo Li, at the Academy of Natural Sciences in Philadelphia.

Also, because it’s only fair: Giant Irish Matt, to go with Giant Irish Mike. Don’t hold your breath for Giant Irish Darren – it just seems wrong to put antlers on the dude who invented Slinker World.

Click to titanosaurize. Trust me.

I was in Philadelphia a couple of weeks ago to work with Liguo Li, of Yongjinglong fame, and I took a day to run up to New York for a quick day’s work at the American Museum of Natural History. It was my first time visiting since the cast skeleton of Patagotitan went up, so it was my first chance to see that beast in the flesh (so to speak). The pano up top is mine, but the other two photos here are by Liguo. I’m writing with my thoughts on the mount.

Pros:

  • It’s big.
  • You can walk all the way around it, with no glass in the way.
  • It’s very convincing. The casting job on the real elements is superb, with all of the cracks and so on faithfully recorded. And the vertebrae they had to sculpt look pretty good.
  • The spotlights aimed at the neck cast these immense shadows of the cervical vertebrae on the far wall, which is cool (see below).
  • Now the AMNH has mounted skeletons of Brontosaurus (or some apatosaurine at any rate), Barosaurus, Kaatedocus (masquerading as a juvenile Barosaurus in the rotunda), and Patagotitan – that’s pretty not bad. I’m hard pressed to think of another museum in the Western Hemisphere with so many mounted sauropod skeletons. Carnegie, maybe? Someone help me out, here.

Cons:

  • In striking contrast to the well-lit, mostly-white aesthetic of the rest of the fossil halls, the orientation gallery holding Patagotitan is mostly in near-Stygian darkness. Shoot in HDR mode if you can.
  • The head poking out into the hallway is a nice trick (see also: Sauroposeidon at the Oklahoma Museum of Natural History), but it means that one of the focal bits of the animal is in a different lighting regime, which makes photography even trickier than it might otherwise have been.
  • The mount feels a bit…cramped by the geometry of the room. Of the AMNH mounted sauropods, it’s easily in the worst space. If you ask me, they should have dethroned Barosaurus from the rotunda (religious commitments notwithstanding) and put Patagotitan there. The Patagotitan mount that is going in Stanley Field Hall at the Field Museum is going to look much more impressive just because of the setting.

In all, not bad, could be better. It was fun for me because the longest cervicals of Sauroposeidon are veeerrry slightly longer than the longest of Patagotitan, and now that Sauroposeidon is coming out as a titanosaur in most analyses…it might have been friggin’ immense.

So, yeah, go see Patagotitan, and all the other good stuff on display at the AMNH.

For more posts on Patagotitan, see: