This was a real ‘wheel-jerk’ moment.
Driving from the remote Craters of the Moon National Monument to my next destination in the mountains of Colorado, when crossing through a small corner of Wyoming en route, I happened upon Fossil Butte National Monument — entirely without planning to.
This road was extremely rural, with not much to speak of in rest stops or cell signal, so I welcomed the sight of brown signs indicating the park’s presence.
Given the hour was still early, and I was feeling fresh, I pulled off toward the visitor’s center. In the end, I was so glad I did.
Fossil Butte National Monument is in an area of Wyoming that might be high-desert now, but was firmly underwater in the past. Part of the era where vast lakes stretched all across the now-arid deserts in Utah and Wyoming, in which back then— the environment more closely resembled the Florida Everglades than the dry mountainous district of now.
Hard to believe, but ancient Wyoming was a lush and fertile jungle with massive freshwater lakes. In fact, the visitors center signs read “Welcome to Fossil Lake.” And the visitors center parking lot railing was annotated with posts marking the millions of years of fossil evidence that lay below in the dried lakebed. Starting FIVE HUNDRED AND TEN MILLION YEARS ago (wow)– but most of the fossils found here have dated from about 34 to 56 million years ago.
The entire reason to visit Fossil Butte wasn’t the natural wilderness outside, but to view the artifacts COLLECTED IN that natural area— all contained within the visitor center. Not the most intuitive way to visit a park if you’re more of an active hiker, but these fossils stopped me in my tracks.
The condition of the fossils on display seemed pristine. They were all a darkened color, which made me wonder if they were painted or enhanced in some way for viewing. I later found out they were not— both by asking the ranger, and viewing a short video about the process for cleaning these fossils. Basically, the color we can see is a result of cleaning the fossil with careful bursts of air, and the natural state of the rock and bone at this age— and does not represent any kind of alteration.
One thing I began to notice on the fossils was that some were found within the bounds of the park, by park staff but others were found by amateur geologists in areas outside of the park. These contained placards reading “New 2023” and “donors”— were they really private citizens? I asked the helpful ranger, who informed me that the surrounding area outside the borders of the park was so chock-full of fossils, that people always brought them in for inspection.
I was really astonished and pleased to hear this— the best-of-the-best fossils displayed in the visitor’s center were crowd-sourced in a way: a collection of what learned experts and regular enthusiasts had put forth— together— over the years. Very cool.
I also noted the recent dates of many of the fossils— 2021, 2022, even 2023. Sometimes, visiting say, a Natural History Museum in a big city, one might see a series of displays and dioramas from the 1950s or 1960s that can make one feel like all the best ‘exploration’ and ‘discovery’ periods of archeology existed in the distant past. By comparison, these new dates on the Fossil Butte specimens felt thrilling to me— that more fossils could potentially be found today— even right this second— gave the whole vibe of the place a fresh feeling.
It brought the antiquities out of the ‘ancient’ world into our own current one.
Fossil Butte National Monument only covers 13 miles of these massive ancient freshwater lakes, that were suggested to be as large as 900 square miles. So, what I was seeing was a fraction of what might exist out there! One could dig for their entire lives and never even begin to find all the skeletons in the ground out there.
The rangers at the visitor’s center also clearly had a good sense of humor— since fossilized excrement can be so helpful for dating areas and determining the natural diet of various ancient species, they had collected a LOT of it.
Poop fossils everywhere.
I guess “poo” fossils are the second-most common type of fossil: named ‘coprolite’ by scientists (ostensibly so they don’t have to talk about poop all the time), these fossils were scattered about (sorry for the pun) the small visitor’s center and museum.
They saved their largest collection of poop fossils for the bathroom areas— so while I was washing my hands, I got to see a plethora of different types and styles of the ways animals and fish had relieved themselves over the hundreds of years prior. And believe it or not, how these specimens had interacted with the environment had lessons to impart.
Arranged in groups by the pattern the excrement made as it landed, the signage was clear that scientists were even able to learn things from the WAY the poop was placed, scattered, or disturbed in the environment it fossilized in. For instance, they could see which areas contained a lot of wind, and which did not, based on dispersal.
With categories like “Sausage,” “Splatter,” and “Grocery Store” (cleanup on aisle 3!), these poos were artfully arranged by type or style. This was all very amusing to me.
One of the more interesting displays was a screen that housed a series of buttons. Each button contained a species of fish that used to be native to the area during its years underwater. By pressing a button, one got to see them ‘come alive’ again— as a digital rendition of the schools of fish swam right by onscreen.
It was neat as hell.
There were a few hikes in the park, Mac and I took one into a grove of aspens. It was nice enough— a way to stretch our road-weary legs— but on reflection, I think we picked the wrong hike to do— as there was a longer, 4-mile hike toward the bottom of the valley that passed through the actual old campsites of the original folks who came to search for fossils, which I would have liked to have seen.
Maybe next time. But the sage DID smell amazing.
As I was leaving the park, I was in for one more surprise— seeing a sign that offered “Dig for Fossils” and “Fossil Shop” — I just had to investigate. This was clearly private land, despite being on the same road as the park— as this was a commercial store that I walked into: “Ulrich’s Fossil Gallery”.
Displayed throughout the store were pieces of rock that contained all matter of fossils— and while none were as spectacular as the samples in the visitors center, they were lovely, intact examples of fossils. What were they doing here?
I asked the proprietor of the shop, who happened to be the owner of the land, how he came to find all these fossils. He pointed upward toward the hill and mountain running up the back of his property — “Up there.” He revealed that he’d been hunting for fossils for 30 YEARS on his parcel of land, and wasn’t tired of it yet.
As his age advanced, he explained, it was harder for him to go up the mountain himself— so he minded the shop instead. A fact that was clearly a bitter pill for an elderly man that had so much enthusiasm about fossils, that one easily saw the flicker in his eye of a curious child as he spoke.
I asked if it was difficult to locate them— no, he answered, he’d been doing this for so long, he tended to know where to dig for a successful hunt, just by looking at an area. Wild.
He explained that the way the layers of rock had been deposited, there wasn’t much cutting involved either— mimicking slicing bread with his hands, he shared that layers of rock would naturally cleave on seams of deposits, meaning they would come off the rock face easily. Making cuts on either side would easily free the fossil itself.
He offered a seat in the next jeep ride up the mountain, so I could see the process— for a small fee, his crew regularly ferries tourists to the active fossil sites to help them find their very own fossil, taking their souvenir right out of the ground.
Of COURSE I wanted to do that. But while was fascinating to me, and I longed to see it— I had to hit the road. My unplanned detour could only last so long if I was to reach my next campsite by nightfall. So, I purchased a few small fish fossils for my niece and nephew— the ‘state fish of Wyoming’ he informed me, as he rang me up.
I had never even heard of Fossil Butte National Monument until the day I happened past it— but it remains one of my favorite stops I’ve made. Not because of the grandeur, or the great hiking (this place had neither)— but because I know that without the van, I wouldn’t ever have been traveling down the roads to make this visit possible.
I got to see some of the coolest (and most contemporarily-found) fossils I have ever seen in my life. And I learned a lot about fossilized poop in the process. What’s not to love?!
Posted by Sun
