Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Diving Down Under in the Cretaceous Sea
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Why Eat a Rock? Gastroliths (‘Stomach Stones’) as Trace Fossils
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
A Trace Fossil by Any Other Name
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Who Made the Three-Toed Dinosaur Track?
Sunday, January 2, 2011
The Case of the Mistaken Dinosaur
Sunday, December 26, 2010
The Mystery of Lark Quarry
Monday, December 6, 2010
The Australian Age of Dinosaurs is Now
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Cretaceous Worlds of Queensland, Part V: Fossil Lives in Downtown Winton
After spending a night in the paleontologically delightful town of Hughenden, my wife and paleo-companion Ruth and I were off to Winton, about 215 km to the southwest.
I had visited Winton once before in 2007, but for only a day and night. Nonetheless, the trip there was so memorable (and why is another story), I had vowed to come back, and was eager for Ruth to visit it with me. Based on my all-too-short foray, I reckoned its combination of paleontology, bush poetry, cowboy culture, ample beer, and welcoming folks would be a winning blend for both of us. So we were prepared to stay a while to better soak up the unique flavors of this place.
We arrived in town early afternoon on Wednesday, June 30 2010, just after the start of the antipodal winter on a gorgeous blue-sky day, and promptly checked into the North Gregory Hotel. I had also stayed at the North Gregory during my previous trip, the main reason being that this was the site of where Waltzing Matilda was first performed in public, in 1895. Was this the original hotel, you ask? Well, no, and neither was its previous incarnation: three fires had wiped out three earlier hotels, including the original one. Hence the designation of this as the “site” where Waltzing Matilda was played. Place is important, as is memory.
The North Gregory Hotel, site of classic songs, fires, beers, paleontology, and other essential facts of life in the outback of Queensland, Australia. Photo is from Rita’s Outback Guide.
With only a few hours of sunlight left, we had a decision to make about our afternoon in Winton: Australian culture or Australian fossils? Our typical eclectic (or is it hedonistic?) attitude of “having our cake and eating it too” held sway, though, so we did both.
First we walked across the street to the Waltzing Matilda Centre, which claims that it is “the only centre devoted to a single song.” (I have little doubt that this assertion is correct, so you should likewise feel no urge to use “The Google” on “the Internets” to find out whether it is true.). The display there does indeed supply a thorough history of the composer Banjo Patterson and how Australia’s most famous song originated (like many songwriters, he was trying to impress a sheila). But Ruth was most impressed with a separate art gallery in the centre, which featured Australian-themed art from local artists.
The beauty of a small town like Winton is that we just had to walk back across the street to sate our thirst for paleontological knowledge. (Also beautiful was that beer could be had on both sides of the street.) The historic Corfield and Fitzmaurice Building, which used to be the town’s general store, is where you go to see fossils in downtown Winton. To see the largest dinosaur bones in Australia, which are coming out of the ground near there, you have to drive a little ways (about 15 km) east of town to the Australian Age of Dinosaurs, and to see a world-class dinosaur tracksite (Lark Quarry), you have to drive a lot more (about 100 km) to the south of Winton. (Do you think that’s enough foreshadowing of the next two blog entries?)
Dinosaurs, the North Gregory Hotel, and a bar! Winton has it all, including an abundant supply of XXXX. No, it’s not what you might first think, but as the Australian joke goes, “It’s how you spell ‘beer’ in Queensland.”
Despite what looked like a small place from the outside, we were impressed with what awaited us inside, all for just a small entrance fee: a nice collection of local fossils (many Cretaceous), and a locally produced diorama that recreated an event from the Cretaceous Period, 95 million years previously, recorded in the aforementioned dinosaur tracksite south of town.
“Excuse me! Pardon me! We really must be going!” There’s something about a large theropod walking through your neighborhood that invokes a bit of anxiety in a wee dinosaur.
The diorama in the Corfield and Fiztmaurice Building represents a labor of love, depicting in dramatic detail the interpreted scenario of the Lark Quarry tracksite. In it, the artisans reproduced the probable environment (a muddy lakeshore), a few representative dinosaurs that made the tracks – including one very imposing (and rather portly) theropod – and a bunch of dinosaur tracks, looking as if they were made yesterday, when actually they were made sometime in the past few years.
Dinosaur tracks, recreated in downtown Winton and representing tracks from a large number of small dinosaurs, with the real thing (a dinosaur tracksite) about 100 km south of town. I wonder why most of those tracks are heading in the same direction?
The diorama even include a bit of speculation (as far as I know) that one of the small ornithopod-dinosaur trackmakers slipped and fell into the mud, leaving it vulnerable to victimization, whereupon the large theropod set upon it in a most rapacious way. In other words, it got eaten.
Bloody hell – all me mates left me here in the mud for that theropod! (Too late, this small ornithopod discovers that there’s no mateship in the Cretaceous.)
Other than the diorama were fossils, and perhaps the most impressive is a sauropod femur in a display case, which I recall belongs to the sauropod dinosaur nicknamed “Elliott.” This prodigious bone was set alongside the femur of an adult bull (Bos taurus, male version). Considering the cowboy culture of the area, this made for a brilliant contrast, easily understood by nearly any visitor educated in bovine anatomy.
But there was much more than dinosaurs here for a paleo-enthusiast to marvel. How about fossil plants? There were some of those, and as a great two-for-one special that pleased this ichnologist very much, a Cretaceous fossil leaf had a leaf mine preserved in it, where a larval insect burrowed below the leaf cuticle as it chowed down on some yummy mesoglea. How cool is that? These sorts of trace fossils can lend to insights about the original ecosystems in which the dinosaurs lived.
It’s a body fossil (a deciduous-tree leaf) and it’s a trace fossil (the leaf mine in the leaf, indicated by the arrow), coming from Cretaceous rocks of Queensland.
Some trace fossils on display that were not from the Cretaceous, but much more recent (I suspected Pleistocene) were labeled as “Sea Wasp Eggs. Leftopius duponti. Loc. S. Aus.” Yet they looked very much like some insect trace fossils I had seen from Argentina, like beetle pupal cases. So I took this picture and looked up the name later (yes, using “The Google” on “The Internets”), and was gratified to see that they were indeed pupal chambers, they are interpreted as the works of the Pleistocene weevil Leptopius duponti, and they have been reported from South Australia and northern Queensland.
“Sea-wasp nests”? No on all of those words, but they’re still very interesting trace fossils. These were made by Pleistocene weevil larvae, and found in South Australia and northern Queensland.
And even though dinosaurs were the paleontological stars of this exhibit, I was pleasantly surprised to see the skeleton of an old (but not quite a fossil) northern hairy nosed wombat (Lasiorhinus krefftii) on display, nicknamed the “Winton Wombat.” This wombat became famous within the Australian paleontological community when its bones were found in between some sauropod dinosaur bones at a dinosaur dig site near Winton.
The “Winton Wombat,” a northern hairy nosed wombat that burrowed down next to some dinosaur bones and died in its burrow just so it would confuse some paleontologists a few thousand years later. Cheeky bugger.
Was this a creationist dream come true, where modern mammals and dinosaurs lived at the same time, then were mixed together by a Noachian flood just before burial? Well, as we like to say in the southern U.S.: “Not just no, but hell no!” Here’s a really simple explanation, in three parts: (1) wombats are very good at burrowing; (2) this wombat burrowed down to the level of some 95-million-year-old dinosaur bones near the surface (which, as a matter of fact, is where they are found today); and (3) the wombat died in its burrow. Or, a miracle occurred. Your pick.
So what was next on our quest for furthering our paleontological education in the Winton area? How about a visit to the most exciting recent development in Queensland paleontology, the Australian Age of Dinosaurs Centre? See you there next week!
The theropod track on the sign would not lie: when you’re in Winton, you’re on Australia’s Dinosaur Trail.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Luck, Preparation, and Opportunity: Part II
This assurance came from Tom Rich as he drove, and me as his sole passenger on a quick trip to the Victoria coast. At his invitation, we were traveling together to Flat Rocks, the Dinosaur Dreaming dig site near Inverloch, Victoria. It was late February 2006 and the last weekend of the dig season there. It was a privilege for me to witness the closing of yet another successful field season and meet some of the people associated with Dinosaur Dreaming. But at the same time I was entering an intellectual unknown.
Dinosaur Dreaming, February 2006
I had been in Australia for less than three weeks, on a sabbatical from Emory University for the first time in 16 years. The primary reason for my being there was to work with Patricia (Pat) Vickers-Rich on a geoscience-education project, but I was open to any other opportunities that might arise. So when Tom asked me if I would like to come with him to the coast, I emphatically said “yes,” albeit with a blend of awe, excitement, and trepidation. The last of these feelings stemmed from my being in a new place, with new people, and new rocks (an example of how “old” becomes “new” in geology). The still-healing fractured tibia in my right leg, the result of a biking accident only a month before, also reminded me to take it slowly, and I had brought a walking stick with me to help with traversing the flat platform of rock. (Yes, the person who first named “Flat Rocks” must have had a lack of imagination that day.)
Flat Rocks, near Inverloch, Victoria.
Tom’s pessimistic statement came in response to my observing that in 14 years of work at the Flat Rocks site, a source of some major paleontological discoveries, no trace fossils had been detected, yet I expressed hope that I would find some there. His pessimism, though, was based on what was known then. The only trace fossil described from Early Cretaceous rocks both east and west of Melbourne was a single, small dinosaur track from the Otway Group, in rocks dated at about 106 million years ago and from Knowledge Creek. Pat and Tom found this track in 1980, during their only time to Knowledge Creek, a place they swore they would never visit again because of its remoteness and difficult access.
No fossil burrows, not even those of invertebrate animals – such as insects or crayfish – had been reported from kilometers of expansive Cretaceous outcrops. Invertebrate trace fossils, especially burrows, are normally the most common trace fossils in any given sedimentary rock sequence, and I thought it was unusual that none had been described after more than 100 years of geological research in this area.
Fortunately for both of us, Tom was wrong. I found two isolated large theropod dinosaur tracks the first day, the first such tracks discovered from this site, then found fossil crayfish burrows the day after that.
Fossil crayfish burrows at Flat Rocks, Strzelecki Group, 115-120 million years old. Burrows were filled with a differently colored sand while the surrounding sediment was still soft, and both sediments later cemented to form sandstones. Photo scale = 10 cm (4 inches).
I promptly celebrated this discovery by sitting on them.
Me sitting on Cretaceous fossil crayfish burrows: photo by Gerry Kool.
Although the dinosaur tracks were nice to find, I actually was more excited about the second day’s discoveries, for reasons explained later. The fossil crayfish burrows led to a paper that took nearly two years to write and publish, but one that was well worth it for its contributing to the solution of a 130-year-old evolutionary puzzle first posed by famed evolutionary scientist Thomas Huxley.
This new knowledge thus alerted future dig crews to start looking for more trace fossils, and especially dinosaur tracks. Sure enough, the next year, in February 2007, an undergraduate student, Tyler Lamb, found a third large theropod track, only 5 meters (16 feet) from the dig site.
Large theropod dinosaur track, preserved as a sandstone fill of an originally concave feature, and weathered out in bold relief. Yup, same photo scale as in the previous picture.
The humbling realization for everyone after this find was that hundreds of volunteers and professional paleontologists had walked across this track for nearly 15 years, unknowingly putting their feet on the same spot where a dinosaur had stepped 120 million years earlier. Hence my own luck, preparation, and opportunities enabled others to make their own discoveries, using the same winning combination of fortune, knowing what to look for, and circumstance.
Tomorrow, Tom and I leave together for Inverloch and will walk over the same rocks, more than four years ago, with both of us expecting to be surprised by what we find. The next post should be about our progress, but also be looking for one that explains why the fossil crayfish burrows were more important to science than the dinosaur tracks, and how these were connected to Mr. Huxley.