Bone Jam and Ram Jam at Dinosaur National Monument

The bone jam I’m taking about is from the Jurassic period, when this specific area in Utah was wet (attracting dinosaurs), then dry (killing dinosaurs), then wet again, at which point a river flowed through, washing a whole lotta bones into this small canyon, where they got caught in the mud, then covered by sediment. What’s serendipitous (for us) is the way the land here has since buckled and succumbed to erosion just so that layers of sedimentary rock are exposed, including the very layer that this bone jam is in.

A paleontologist working for the Carnegie Museum in Philadelphia made this giant discovery of the remains of ten species of dinosaurs, and, after having overseen the hauling off of tons of bones, he declared that his dream for the remaining find be left in place and a museum be built around it so the public could see. That’s the amazing Wall of Bones aka Quarry Exhibit Hall here in Dinosaur National Monument.

As you can see from the outside, it’s a glass building at least five stories along one side, whereas along the other side,

is the bare rock wall, with 1,500 dinosaur bones exposed. Tracy in this pic is standing along the upper viewing deck; there’s another below him. It’s jaw-dropping astounding. We picked up a guide, with each spread of the guide covering a section of the wall, and all the revealed bones in that section drawn on the spread, enumerated, then listed. Often a reconstructed skeleton has also been drawn on the page so you can imagine.

There’s at least one fully articulated skeleton there (meaning the whole dang thing, not even particularly jumbled up), as well as two intact skulls. Dinosaur skulls are delicate, apparently, so these, too, are rare. When I couldn’t find one, the park ranger pulled out her handy laser pointer and circled it, saying, “This one’s our money-maker.” Again, astounding. If you’re interested and can’t make it out here, I recommend looking this place up.

Ram Jam

The ram jam we encountered as we were driving to see one of the several old homesteading locations and Tracy slammed on the brakes. This very large and healthy-looking bighorn sheep had run across the street almost on top of us, and he stopped as quickly as we did and engaged us in a staring contest. Seriously, we were so close to him I barely wanted to roll down my window.

Turns out he was keeping an eye on us in regards to our intentions to his small herd grazing in the culvert down below us. Now, we’re seen a measly few wild sheep on our travels, but none as hearty-looking as these. They looked even more impressive than the ones we saw featured in the park’s movie we watched later in the visitor’s center.

We’ve gone on a couple of short hikes here so far, and it’s hard to describe them without going on and on about the unique geology here. Seeing as how I got a whopping D in geology in college, I’ll refrain. I will say that the hike we went on into a box canyon used as a corral at an old homestead was especially lovely.

We went to check out the old home of a woman who moved hereonce her husband had died and her children were grown, when she was 40 years old. She built her log house and out buildings and raised livestock and planted an orchard, and apparently was a very generous host to guests.

She lived without running water or electricity until she died in the 1960s, when she was 90-something years old. Her impetus to homestead here: “I wanted a place to call my own.” From the many irises to the many turkeys to the amazing views, I can see why she was attracted to the place. How she found time to appreciate it, though, I can’t imagine.

It’s hard to pick what to share here. We’ve also seen petroglyphs,

and hiked along the Green River.

What I’d like to do is create a timeline of the major petroglyphs we’ve seen here in the Southwest, from oldest to most recent, so I can put them in my own little historical perspective. Stay tuned.