FOSSIL DIG AT DINOSAUR PROVINCIAL PARK

Dinosaur Provincial Park Fossil Dig

Ohh yes — Dinosaur Provincial Park is one of those places where time just… refuses to mind its manners. 

It sprawls across the badlands of southeastern Alberta, a sunburned maze of hoodoos, gullies, bentonite clays, and wide, silent coulees where the Late Cretaceous still feels startlingly close. 

If you know your dinosaurs — and I know you do — this is one of Earth’s most important bonebeds, rivaled only by the Gobi Desert and a few select pockets of Montana and Patagonia.

Roughly 75–77 million years ago, this region lay at the edge of a warm coastal plain along the interior Western Interior Seaway. 

Think slow, looping rivers; cypress and fern marshes; balmy summers; and a very high probability of running into hadrosaurs (Corythosaurus, Lambeosaurus, Parasaurolophus), horned dinosaurs (Centrosaurus, Styracosaurus), tyrannosaurs, ankylosaurs, troodontids, turtles, champsosaurs, crocodilians, and freshwater fish. 

Floods, storms, and meandering river channels buried carcasses in mud and silt, and nature did the rest — compacting and lithifying them into the Oldman and Dinosaur Park formations we know today.

How They Dig

Excavating in the park is old-school science at its most tactile. Crews begin by scouting — sometimes guided by erosion, sometimes by bone fragments that weather out of the hillsides. Once they’ve identified promising exposures, they get down on hands and knees with rock hammers, awls, brushes, and dental picks.

The key is going slow. These sediments are soft but unpredictable; a single Centrosaurus femur can shear if you rush. Bones are consolidated with glue-like hardeners as they’re exposed. For larger finds, crews build plaster jackets — soaked burlap dipped in plaster, wrapped around the fossil and supporting matrix like an orthopedic cast — then transport the slab out of the coulees by hand, ATV, helicopter, or small cart. 

The jackets then head to prep labs in Drumheller or museums worldwide for meticulous cleaning under microscopes.

What They Find

The park is a jackpot for both skeletal and taphonomic diversity. Here you'll find:

• Bonebeds — catastrophic mass-death deposits, especially of Centrosaurus, interpreted as herd drownings during river floods or tropical storms.
• Articulated skeletons and partial individuals — gorgeous, curled-up hadrosaurs or ankylosaurs preserved in river channel sands.
• Microfossil sites — turtle shell, crocodile scutes, fish scales, tiny dinosaur teeth, and delicate vertebrae that tell the story of small-bodied fauna and paleoecology.
• Plant impressions — the background greenery of the Cretaceous world, from conifers to broad-leaved angiosperms.

It’s not uncommon for field seasons here to recover multiple new individuals, and historically the park has yielded more than 50 dinosaur species and thousands of catalogued specimens — a staggering contribution to paleontology.

The Visitor Experience

• What’s beautifully unique is that Dinosaur Provincial Park is both a research landscape and a public one. You can:
• Walk the badlands trails and stumble across weathering bone fragments (strictly look, no collecting).
• Join guided interpretive tours that take you into active restricted dig zones — a rare privilege, since most world-class bonebeds are off-limits.
• Visit the field stations where staff show plaster jackets, exposed bones, and explain how digs work.
• See fossils in situ at special display sites, where the bones are left exactly where they were found and protected under viewing shelters. It’s like peeking through a window into deep time.

The Royal Tyrrell Museum also runs programs out of the park — including multi-day paleontology experiences where visitors learn to prospect, excavate, and identify fossils under expert supervision. For many, that’s the closest they’ll ever come to being a field paleontologist.

Aside from being visually stunning (cinematographers love the badlands light), the park preserves one of the most detailed snapshots of Late Cretaceous continental ecosystems in the world. 

Because the formations are stacked and time-resolved, researchers can read shifts in faunal communities, climate patterns, environments, and extinction pressures across a few million years — essentially watching ecosystems change in slow motion.

Can Folk Visit?

• Absolutely. It’s open to the public (with seasonal restrictions), but with a few courtesies:
• Stay on trails in open areas — the sediments are fragile and erosion is an active process.
• No fossil collecting — everything stays on the landscape for science.
• Book ahead for guided digs — they fill fast, especially in summer.
• Prepare for heat — badlands are oven-like in July and August.

It’s a place that manages to feel both ancient and alive. The silence carries, the rocks crumble under hand, and sometimes — if you’re lucky — a chip of bone glints from a slope where a Centrosaurus weathered out just last winter.

NESSIE: THE OPALIZED PLIOSAUR OF THE EARLY CRETACEOUS

Nessie the Opalized Marine Reptile

At the Opal Museum in Queensland glitters one of the more improbable fossils ever pulled from the ancient seabed — an opalized pliosaur affectionately nicknamed “Nessie.” 

Beneath its shimmering surface lies the story of a powerful marine reptile that ruled the Early Cretaceous oceans roughly 110 million years ago, at a time when much of inland Australia was drowned beneath a warm, shallow epicontinental sea.

The lovely remains you see here are from one of those amazing marine reptiles, a pliosaur, who swam in those ancient seas. So what exactly is a pliosaur?

Pliosaurs are a subgroup within the Plesiosauria, the great marine reptiles (not dinosaurs!) of the Mesozoic. 

While long-necked plesiosaurs favored dainty heads and elongated cervical vertebrae for sweeping, panoramic strikes at small fish and cephalopods, pliosaurs evolved in the opposite direction:

• Skulls short and massive
• Necks abbreviated
• Jaws deep and muscular
• Teeth robust and conical

These were the ambush predators, built less like swans and more like crocodilian torpedoes, with four powerful flippers and a muscular body plan that let them sprint through the water column to surprise prey.

Though not an ichthyosaur — those fast, fish-shaped reptiles that converged spectacularly toward the form of modern dolphins — pliosaurs shared the same ecosystems. 

Ichthyosaurs hunted squid and fish in speed-based chases, while pliosaurs handled bigger, tougher fare: other marine reptiles, ammonites, and the occasional large fish unlucky enough to cross their path.

The Early Cretaceous seas hosted a diverse guild of reptiles:

• Ichthyosaurs (fish-shaped pursuit predators)
• Long-necked plesiosaurs (precision feeders)
• Pliosaurs (apex ambush predators)
• Crocodyliforms (semi-aquatic opportunists)
• Ammonites & belemnites (cephalopods forming the backbone of the food web)

Nessie sits among a lineage that includes broad-skulled bruisers like Kronosaurus queenslandicus, a fellow Australian celebrity whose skull approached 3 meters in length and whose bite force was probably among the strongest of any Mesozoic reptile.

Pliosaurs didn’t so much swim as fly underwater. Their four hydrofoil flippers generated lift in alternating strokes, allowing bursts of speed followed by graceful pursuit. Streamlined bodies meant low drag, essential for surprise attacks in open water.

Dentition tells the tale:

• Deep-rooted conical teeth resist torsional stress
• Interlocking jaws grip slippery prey
• Short snout adds leverage for skull-crushing force

Ammonites — including opalized forms from the same Australian basins — bear puncture marks suggestive of pliosaur predation. Large fish and other marine reptiles likely rounded out the menu.

Like ichthyosaurs and most plesiosaurs studied from articulated skeletons, pliosaurs were viviparous — they gave birth to live young at sea. No nests, no frantic beach crawls, and no hatchling gauntlet. Babies were miniature versions of adults, already hydrodynamic and hungry.

How do we know this? Well, a few ways. We have fossilized pregnant plesiosaur specimens with embryos and there is always the biomechanical absurdity of hauling such a creature onto land to lay eggs. So, wee ones at sea it is!

Why Opal? Why Here?

Opalization is an Australian specialty, the result of silica-rich groundwater percolating through Cretaceous sediments and replacing bone over geologic time. Fossils from Lightning Ridge and Coober Pedy preserve everything from ammonites to plesiosaurs as shockingly colourful silica pseudomorphs — Earth chemistry as jeweler.

Nessie’s preservation is thus a double marvel for its biological rarity (pliosaur skeletons are uncommon) and mineralogical rarity (precious opal replacement is even rarer)

Pliosaurs survived well into the Late Cretaceous before vanishing in a wave of marine turnover alongside ichthyosaurs, mosasaurs, and ammonites. Their departure marks a reshuffling of oceanic power dynamics — a story of climate, sea levels, and evolutionary competition.

TOXODON: SOUTH AMERICA'S MOST MAGNIFICENT ODDBALL

Toxodon was a hulking, hippo-sized grazing mammal that once roamed the ancient grasslands, wetlands, and scrub of South America. 

The creature first entered the scientific spotlight thanks to Charles Darwin, who stumbled upon its bones during the HMS Beagle expedition. 

On November 26, 1834, while travelling in Uruguay, Darwin heard rumours of “giant’s bones” on a nearby farm. 

Curious, he rode over, investigated the cache, and purchased the skull of a strange beast for eighteen pence — a bargain for a fossil that would later puzzle the greatest minds of the 19th century.

In his journals, Darwin mused: “Toxodon is perhaps one of the strangest animals ever discovered.” And frankly, he wasn’t wrong. 

Once the skeleton was fully reconstructed, it appeared to pull anatomical traits from every corner of the mammalian tree. It was as large and barrel-bodied as a rhinoceros, yet equipped with chisel-shaped incisors reminiscent of oversized rodents — hence its name, meaning “arched tooth.” 

Its high-set eyes and nostrils suggested an animal comfortable in water, much like a hippo or manatee. Darwin marvelled at this evolutionary mash-up: “How wonderfully are the different orders… blended together in the structure of the Toxodon!”

For over a century, the lineage of Toxodon remained a scientific enigma. Traditional morphology bounced it somewhere among ungulates, rodents, and even sirenians. Then, in 2015, ancient DNA changed the game. 

A groundbreaking genomic study revealed that Toxodon — along with the equally bizarre Macrauchenia — belonged to a lineage known as the South American native ungulates, or SANUs. 

These animals were the evolutionary result of South America’s long isolation after the breakup of Gondwana. And here’s the kicker: SANUs are now understood to be distantly related to modern perissodactyls, the group that includes horses, tapirs, and rhinoceroses. 

So Darwin’s instincts weren’t far off — the resemblance to rhinos wasn’t just superficial whimsy.

Toxodon and its relatives (family Toxodontidae) appear in the Late Miocene, roughly 9 million years ago, and flourish throughout the Pliocene and Pleistocene of South America. 

Their fossils have been uncovered across Argentina, Bolivia, Brazil, Paraguay, and Uruguay, with especially rich deposits in the Pampean region where Darwin first collected his specimens.

These creatures were part of a wider radiation of endemic South American mammals — a remarkable fauna that included giant ground sloths, glyptodonts, terror birds, and litopterns. For tens of millions of years, South America functioned almost like a massive evolutionary island, producing lineages found nowhere else on Earth.

Toxodon itself survived until the tail end of the last Ice Age, vanishing about 12,000 years ago, around the time humans arrived on the continent and climate systems shifted dramatically. Its demise mirrors the fate of many Pleistocene megafaunal giants.

Toxodon stands as a fascinating case study in convergent evolution and the challenges of reconstructing deep-time relationships. Its stocky limbs, massive grinding teeth, and robust skull mark it as a grazer well-suited to tough vegetation, while its semi-aquatic adaptations hint at a lifestyle spent wallowing in wetlands and rivers. 

It was, in many ways, a South American answer to the hippo — yet biologically and evolutionarily, it belonged to an entirely different branch of the mammalian tree.

Darwin might have described it as a beautiful blend of mismatched traits, but with DNA in hand, we now see Toxodon not as a puzzle piece forced to fit the wrong box — but as the last great representative of an ancient, isolated ungulate lineage that flourished for millions of years in a continent of evolutionary mischief.

THE BULL CANYON TRACKSITE OF EASTERN UTAH

Darrin Mottler's Human to Theropod Comparison

The wind always arrives first.

It sweeps across the red cliffs of eastern Utah, brushing your shoulders like a quiet invitation as you step out onto the stone. 

The La Sal Mountains rise blue and snow-dusted on the horizon—silent, ancient witnesses. 

At your feet, the sandstone is warm, sun-baked, and patterned with bowls and dimples that look, at first, like the aftermath of a rainstorm.

But then you kneel.

You place your hand inside one of the indentations—fingers spreading to follow the outline—and suddenly time collapses. 

Your palm disappears into a footprint three times the size of your own, pressed into this rock nearly 190 million years ago by a three-toed dinosaur striding across a muddy lakeshore. 

The warmth of the desert stone meets your fingers and presses against the cool, deep sensation of time.

This is Bull Canyon Tracksite, one of Utah’s most awe-inspiring windows into the Jurassic.

Bull Canyon lies on the western flank of the La Sal Mountains, within a rugged plateau of red Wingate and Navajo sandstone. The site preserves an astonishing spread of footprints left by Early Jurassic theropods—light, agile, meat-eating dinosaurs with talons and hollow bones, the forerunners of modern birds.

Dinosaur Track, Bull Canyon, Utah

The tracks rest within the Glen Canyon Group formations, sediments laid down along the shifting margins of a prehistoric playa lake system. 

Here, mudflats dried and cracked under the sun, then were wetted again by brief storms—an ideal condition for holding tracks long enough to be buried by the next layer of sand.

Among the most distinctive ichnotaxa present are:

• Grallator – small, delicate three-toed prints often linked to slender theropods.
• Eubrontes – larger, deeper, more robust prints associated with big-bodied carnivores like Dilophosaurus.
• Occasional ornithischian tracks, including possible Anomoepus prints, representing small herbivorous dinosaurs moving across the same shoreline.

Dinosaur Track, Bull Canyon, Utah

Standing before them, the sandstone seems alive with movement. Each footprint shows a frozen splash of action: the slip of a claw, the twist of a heel, the moment a predator shifted its weight.

Every print reveals insights. Some trackways show animals striding with long, confident steps—suggesting a loping, ground-covering gait. Others are tight and compact, indicating slower or more cautious movement.

Parallel trackways record two or more animals moving in the same direction at the same time—possible group travel, or predators trailing prey.

A few prints deform the underlying sediment, proof that the ground was saturated with water. Others preserve delicate claw tips, showing firmer, drying mud. These shifts map out rapid climate cycles in Early Jurassic Utah.

It’s a moment-by-moment account of life—written in the most ephemeral of materials. 

So why does eastern Utah have so many dinosaur tracks? The region around Moab and the La Sal foothills is a world-class dinosaur track corridor with many elements at play.

• Jurassic climate: alternating wet and dry periods created perfect track-preservation conditions.
• Basins & playas: low-lying flats captured footprints from multiple dinosaur species.
• Rapid burial: shifting dunes and lake sediments quickly sealed impressions.
• Erosion today: modern uplift and weathering have brought these ancient surfaces back to light.

Bull Canyon is one of the most accessible of the sites, offering broad paleosurface exposures ideal for study and public viewing. If you visit at sunrise, the low light throws shadows into the footprints. The tracks seem to deepen, their edges turning crisp like the outline of a freshly pressed print. 

Photo Credit: All photos shown here are by the deeply awesome Darrin Mottler, who generously shared them with me and introduced me to the site. Appreciate you, Darrin!

ROCK BUFFET: THE CURIOUS CASE OF GASTROLITHS

Gastrolith from Traskasaura sandrae

There’s a fine line between “swallowed by accident” and “intentional meal plan,” and few fossils illustrate that better than the humble gastrolith—literally, a “stomach stone.”

Our story begins, fittingly, in the belly of a marine reptile from Vancouver Island’s Trent River—a local who took the phrase “gut of stone” rather literally. 

This polished pebble once tumbled through Cretaceous surf some 80 million years ago, only to end up as part of a Mesozoic digestive strategy. 

Today, it sits fossilised and gleaming in the Courtenay Museum, a geological souvenir from an age when eating rocks was not just tolerated but recommended. 

This lovely was found in the belly of a new genus and species of elasmosaur named Traskasaura sandrae, in honour of the Trask family — Mike, Pat and Heather Trask.

Gastroliths—smooth stones swallowed on purpose—were the original “multi-tools” of digestion. They turn up in the fossil record of marine reptiles like plesiosaurs and ichthyosaurs, in dinosaurs from Camarasaurus to Caudipteryx, and even in modern birds and crocodiles. 

Think of them as internal food processors—helping grind up shellfish, bones, and whatever else made the Mesozoic menu.

Why rocks? Well, if you’re a giant aquatic reptile with flippers instead of forks, chewing isn’t really an option. Instead, you gulp your prey whole, toss in a few stones, and let physics do the work. 

Inside the muscular gizzard, those gastroliths tumble around, mashing up food like a prehistoric smoothie blender. They also may have served as ballast, helping the reptile fine-tune buoyancy—a sort of stone-age scuba weight belt.

Of course, scientists have debated which role was more important: digestion or diving? Were these animals after smoother sailing or smoother meals? The jury’s still out, but the answer might be “both”—because why not have a rock that multitasks?

The Trent River specimen, like others from Vancouver Island’s fossil beds, is particularly well-rounded—literally. Its polished surface hints at long tumbling in surf before being swallowed, and longer wear inside a reptilian stomach before being fossilised. 

Imagine being a small stone, minding your own business in the shallows, when suddenly—gulp!—you’re swept into the digestive adventures of a marine predator. Millions of years later, you emerge as a museum piece. Talk about a career arc.

Modern birds still use gastroliths, so next time you watch a chicken pecking gravel, remember—it’s not just weird farmyard behaviour. It’s a direct evolutionary link to ancient seagoing reptiles. The same survival trick that helped plesiosaurs patrol the Cretaceous seas now helps your backyard hen break down corn.

So, the next time you’re strolling along the Trent River and spot a rounded pebble, take a closer look. Could it be a river stone? Sure. But it could also be the relic of a reptilian digestive system, polished by waves, stomach acid, and time itself. Because in the fossil record, even the smallest stone can tell a story—and in this case, it’s a story of rocks, reptiles, and the enduring appeal of an all-you-can-eat buffet… with a little extra crunch.

Gastrolith Image: Outside of the field of view of this photo is Mike Trask sitting beside me telling all about the construction of the scaffolding he devised for the extraction of the elasmosaur bones. 

Across the river, his twin brother Pat was covering the bones in a protective case and oodles of VIPS volunteers were getting ready for the big moment when the bones would be taken out of the cliff. 

It is a bittersweet memory, as Mike has gone for his last walk in the woods and is waiting for our next adventure on the other side. I miss that man so much. 

GARGOYLEOSAURUS: THE SPIKED GUARDIAN OF THE JURASSIC FOREST

Gargoyleosaurus by Daniel Eskridge

Step back into the lush forests of the Late Jurassic, about 155 million years ago, where ferns brushed the ankles of giants and the air buzzed with the calls of ancient insects. 

In the shade of towering conifers, a low-slung, tank-like creature ambled through the undergrowth — Gargoyleosaurus parkpini, one of the earliest known ankylosaurs.

A quiet forest dweller but no easy meal, Gargoyleosaurus was proof that sometimes survival comes not from speed or strength, but from a good suit of armour.

Unlike its later Cretaceous cousins, Ankylosaurus and Euoplocephalus, this Jurassic pioneer was smaller and a little more lightly built — about 3 metres long and weighing as much as a cow. 

But don’t let that fool you: Gargoyleosaurus was well-defended. Its body was draped in thick, bony plates called osteoderms, and along its flanks ran sharp spikes that would make any hungry predator think twice. 

Its head bore a beaked snout perfect for cropping low-growing plants, and behind that, the skull was crowned with rugged armour that gave the dinosaur its gargoyle-like name.

Fossils of Gargoyleosaurus have been unearthed in Wyoming’s Morrison Formation — the same ancient landscape that hosted Stegosaurus, Allosaurus, and Diplodocus. Imagine this spiky herbivore moving slowly through the ferns while massive sauropods grazed nearby and the shadows of meat-eating theropods flickered between the trees.

As one of the oldest ankylosaurs in the fossil record, Gargoyleosaurus gives us a glimpse into the early evolution of these living fortresses. Its mix of primitive and advanced features — such as an early form of its armored skull — hints at the experimentation nature was doing with defense long before the rise of the tail-club-wielding ankylosaurs of the Cretaceous.

JOSE BONAPARTE: MASTER OF THE MESOZOIC

José Fernando Bonaparte

One of the most delightful palaeontologists to grace our Earth was José Fernando Bonaparte (14 June 1928 – 18 February 2020). 

We often think of those who have shaped our past and found many of the firsts of their region as living in ancient history, but José left us just this past year in February. 

He was a prolific and hard-working Argentinian palaeontologist who you'll know as the discoverer of some of Argentina's iconic dinosaurs — Carnotaurus, along with Amargasaurus, Abelisaurus, Argentinosaurus and Noasaurus. 

His first love was mammals and over the course of his career, he unearthed the remains of some of the first South American fossil mammals from the Mesozoic. 

Between 1975 and 1977, Bonaparte worked on excavation of the Saltasaurus dinosaur with Martín Vince and Juan C. Leal at the Estancia "El Brete."  Bonaparte was interested in the anatomy of Saltasaurus, particularly the armoured plates or osteoderms embedded in its skin. 

Carnotaurus skull

Based on this discovery, together with twenty examples of Kritosaurus australis and a lambeosaurine dinosaur found in South America, Bonaparte hypothesized that there had been a large-scale migration of species between the Americas at the end of the Mesozoic period.

The supercontinent of Pangea split into Laurasia in the north and Gondwana in the south during the Jurassic. During the Cretaceous, South America pulled away from the rest of Gondwana. 

The division caused a divergence between the northern biota and the southern biota, and the southern animals appear strange to those used to the more northerly fauna. 

Bonaparte's finds illustrate this divergence. His work is honoured in his moniker given to him by palaeontologist Robert Bakker — "Master of the Mesozoic."

SAILS OF THE PERMIAN: REIGN OF DIMETRODON

Dimetrodon by Daniel Eskridge

In the steamy forests of the early Permian, some 295 million years ago, a Dimetrodon prowls through a world that feels both alien and oddly familiar. 

The forest hums with insect life, and the air hangs heavy with the scent of wet soil and decaying vegetation. 

Towering above are stands of lycopsids, early relatives of modern clubmosses, their scaly trunks reaching for the pale sun. 

Ferns carpet the forest floor, interwoven with the roots of primitive conifers. Between them flow sluggish streams, their surfaces shimmering with pollen and the movements of darting amphibians.

Through this primeval landscape moves Dimetrodon—muscular, deliberate, and unmistakable. Its back is crowned with a tall, elegant neural sail, formed by elongated vertebral spines connected by stretched skin. As dawn light breaks through the canopy, the sail glows amber and crimson, absorbing warmth to jumpstart its cold-blooded metabolism. 

Dimetrodon by Daniel Eskridge

In a world of fluctuating temperatures, such thermoregulation was a powerful evolutionary advantage. By mid-morning, the great predator is alert, its metabolism primed for the hunt.

A rustle in the underbrush betrays the movement of smaller synapsids—perhaps an Edaphosaurus, a plant-eater with its own sail, though broader and dotted with crossbars. Dimetrodon lowers its head and advances silently, each step careful, practiced. Its jaws, lined with serrated, ziphodont teeth, were perfectly adapted for slicing through flesh. 

Unlike the simple cone-shaped teeth of earlier reptiles, Dimetrodon’s dentition reveals its lineage as a synapsid—a group that would, through deep evolutionary time, give rise to mammals, including us.

Despite its reptilian appearance, Dimetrodon was not a dinosaur. It lived more than 40 million years before the first dinosaurs appeared. Its lineage represents an earlier, distinct branch on the tree of life: the pelycosaurs, the dominant land vertebrates of the Permian. 

These creatures were part of the great synapsid radiation, experimenting with new body plans and ecological roles in a rapidly changing world. Dimetrodon’s sail, once thought to serve purely for display, likely functioned as a thermal regulator, allowing it to warm up quickly in the morning and cool down in the heat of the day. 

Some also propose that the sail could have been a signal structure—flashing color patterns to warn rivals or attract mates among the ferns and cycads.

In the murky shallows nearby, lungfish burrow into the mud, preparing for the dry season. Amphibians the size of crocodiles lounge in the shallows, their nostrils barely above water. 

Dimetrodon may have been primarily a terrestrial hunter, but it was never far from the wetlands where prey was abundant. A sudden splash draws its attention—a large amphibian, perhaps a Diplocaulus, with its strange boomerang-shaped head, breaking the surface. Dimetrodon’s muscles tense; the predator lunges, jaws snapping shut with a crack that echoes through the forest. The water churns, then stills. A moment later, the sail-backed hunter emerges, victorious, dragging its meal to the shore.

The Permian ecosystem was one of transition—between the lush coal swamps of the Carboniferous and the arid supercontinent of Pangaea to come. Forests gave way to open plains and deserts, forcing animals to adapt or perish. Dimetrodon thrived in this environment for millions of years before disappearing in the changing climates of the late Permian, replaced by more advanced therapsids, the true precursors to mammals.

We find the fossils of Dimetrodon across North America, particularly in the Texas Red Beds and parts of Oklahoma, their bones preserved in ancient floodplain sediments. These remains—skulls, vertebrae, and the distinctive spines of its sail—offer us a window into deep time, to an age before dinosaurs, when the world was still finding its balance between reptile and mammal, swamp and desert, day and night.

Beneath the humid canopy of the Permian, Dimetrodon was master of its realm—a creature of sunlight and shadow, its sail gleaming like a living flame against the green gloom of the world’s first great forests.

GORGOSAURUS — SLEEK, FAST AND LETHAL

When you ask most folk to think of a dinosaur and share the first mighty brute that comes to mind, it is almost always Tyrannosaurus rex—the heavyweight champion of the Late Cretaceous. 

But long before T. rex dominated North America, a close relative, Gorgosaurus, prowled the floodplains of what is now Alberta, Canada, and Montana, USA. 

This predatory dinosaur was a top carnivore in its ecosystem, and its fossil record provides key insights into the evolution and diversity of tyrannosaurids.

Along with their bones, we find clues of where they lived, the environments they preferred, who were their neighbours and their source of food. Imagine travelling back in time to see them at their peak.  

The floodplain air hangs heavy with the musk of wet clay and the sweet rot of decaying vegetation. Dragonflies skim low over the water, their wings whispering in the heat, while the distant trill of frogs hums through the reeds. Then the stillness shatters. 

A crashing chorus of reeds bending, the frantic honking of a duck-billed hadrosaur, and the earth-shaking thud of pursuit burst around you. You press yourself against the rough bark of a cypress, heart hammering, as a Gorgosaurus explodes from the undergrowth. Its long legs churn the mud, kicking up a spray of black soil, and in a blink its massive jaws snap shut on the gentle plant-eater, the drama coming to an end as abruptly as it started.  

You are not the only witness. From the river shallows, a Deinosuchus lurks unseen, its armored back just breaking the water’s surface. Overhead, Pteranodon wheel and dip, their wings catching the sun as they circle in hope of scraps. Herds of Centrosaurus and Corythosaurus stand frozen at the edge of the floodplain, nostrils flaring at the metallic scent on the wind. Even the armored Edmontonia, crouched low among the ferns, holds perfectly still. 

This is a thrilling yet chilling world and the dominion of Gorgosaurus. It is a world we have been piecing together for just over a century. 

Gorgosaurus libratus was first described in 1914 by paleontologist Lawrence Lambe, based on a nearly complete skeleton from Alberta’s famous Dinosaur Park Formation. The name Gorgosaurus means “fierce lizard”—a fitting title for a predator that could grow up to 9 meters (30 feet) in length and weigh over 2 tonnes. Its remains are particularly abundant in Alberta, making it one of the best-studied tyrannosaurids.

Like its larger cousin T. rex, Gorgosaurus belonged to the family Tyrannosauridae. It had powerful hindlimbs, a massive skull filled with sharp, serrated teeth, and the characteristic short forelimbs of its lineage. These two bruisers had some key differences:

• Build: Gorgosaurus was more lightly built than T. rex, with a narrower skull and longer legs relative to body size. This suggests it was built for speed and agility, possibly making it a more active predator. Think of them as the sleeker, more gracile cousins of the mix.
• Teeth: Its teeth were recurved and laterally compressed, ideal for slicing through flesh.
• Senses: Like other tyrannosaurids, it likely had keen eyesight, an advanced sense of smell, and strong jaw muscles—making it a highly efficient hunter.

Gorgosaurus lived around 76–72 million years ago, during the Campanian stage of the Late Cretaceous. Its fossils are commonly found in the Dinosaur Park Formation, a rich fossil bed that also preserves ceratopsians (Centrosaurus, Styracosaurus), hadrosaurs (Corythosaurus, Lambeosaurus), ankylosaurs, and smaller predators like Dromaeosaurus.

This predator likely targeted juvenile ceratopsians and hadrosaurs, using its speed to pursue prey and its powerful jaws to deliver fatal bites. Evidence from bonebeds suggests that tyrannosaurids, including Gorgosaurus, may have occasionally scavenged as well as hunted live prey.

As to the adults, so too the young — one of the most fascinating aspects of Gorgosaurus research is the large number of juvenile specimens that have been found. We have learned a lot from having the benefit of so many great fossil specimens to study. 

Juvenile tyrannosaurs were more slender, with proportionally longer legs and arms, suggesting they filled different ecological niches than adults. Young Gorgosaurus may have hunted smaller, faster prey, while adults took on larger herbivores. This age-based division of labor—called ontogenetic niche partitioning—may have reduced competition within the species and helped tyrannosaurs dominate their ecosystems.

Gorgosaurus is part of the subfamily Albertosaurinae, alongside Albertosaurus. Compared to the bulkier Tyrannosaurinae (T. rex, Daspletosaurus), albertosaurines were slimmer and more gracile. Studying these differences helps us understand how tyrannosaurids diversified and adapted to different ecological roles across North America during the Late Cretaceous.

Fancy taking a look at some of these beasties for yourself? You can with a wee bit of travel. Three of my favourite museums come to mind that all house Gorgosaurus specimens and all are worthy of a lengthy exploration on your part: 

Royal Tyrrell Museum (Drumheller, Alberta): Houses multiple Gorgosaurus specimens, including impressive skulls and skeletons. This is an amazing museum and a personal fav. Definitely worth the trip. 

Canadian Museum of Nature (Ottawa): Displays Gorgosaurus fossils alongside other Canadian dinosaurs.

American Museum of Natural History (New York): Features tyrannosaur relatives, including Albertosaurus and T. rex, for comparison. I recommend you bring a snack and wear comfortable shoes.  

Gorgosaurus — sleek, fast, and lethal — it reigned as a top predator for millions of years. Its rich fossil record has given us an unparalleled look at tyrannosaur growth, anatomy, and ecology—making it one of the most important dinosaurs for understanding the rise of the tyrant kings.

TRACKING DINOSAURS: FOOTPRINTS IN STONE

Dinosaur Track, Tumbler Ridge

Imagine kneeling beside a three-toed depression in a slab of sandstone, your fingers tracing the edges of a print left by a creature that thundered across the Earth over 100 million years ago. 

Dinosaur tracks—known scientifically as ichnites—are time capsules, snapshots of behavior frozen in stone. 

Unlike bones, which tell us what dinosaurs looked like, footprints reveal how they moved, how fast they walked, whether they traveled alone or in herds, and even how they interacted with their environment.

Footprints are classified by shape rather than by exact species, since tracks are trace fossils—evidence of activity, not anatomy. Paleontologists group them into “ichnogenera,” names based on their form.

• Theropods, the meat-eating dinosaurs like Tyrannosaurus and Allosaurus, left narrow, three-toed prints (tridactyl) with claw marks. Their tracks often show long, slender toes and a V-shaped outline.
• Ornithopods, the plant-eaters like Iguanodon, also made three-toed prints, but theirs are broader with blunt toes—built for walking on both two and four legs.
• Sauropods, the long-necked giants, left large round or oval footprints—massive impressions of their column-like feet, often paired with crescent-shaped handprints nearby.
• Ankylosaurs and stegosaurs left shorter, wider tracks, with toe impressions that resemble stubby, armored stumps.

Theropod Track

You can see spectacular dinosaur tracks across the world and close to home in western Canada. 

The Peace Region of British Columbia boasts the Tumbler Ridge Global Geopark, where hundreds of Cretaceous-era footprints adorn ancient riverbeds. 

In Alberta, the Dinosaur Provincial Park and the Willow Creek tracksites near Lethbridge preserve both sauropod and theropod prints. 

Farther south, classic trackways appear in Utah’s St. George Dinosaur Discovery Site and Colorado’s Picketwire Canyonlands, where sauropods once waded through ancient mudflats.

If you spot a fossil track, look closely at its size, toe count, and depth. 

Is it long and narrow, hinting at a swift predator, or broad and round, evidence of a lumbering herbivore? 

These shapes tell stories—of migration, of pursuit, of entire ecosystems now long vanished—each print a footprint not just in rock, but in time itself.

Definitely take a photo if you are able and if within cell range, drop a GPS pin to mark the spot to share with local experts when you get home.

Sometimes, you can find something amazing but it takes a while for others to believe you. This happened up in Tumbler Ridge when the first dino tracks were found.

Flatbed Creek Dino Tracks

In the summer of 2000, two curious boys exploring a creek bed near Tumbler Ridge, British Columbia, made a discovery that would put their small northern town on the paleontological map. 

While splashing along Flatbed Creek, Mark Turner and Daniel Helm noticed a series of large, three-toed impressions pressed deep into the sandstone—too regular to be random. 

They had stumbled upon the fossilized footprints of dinosaurs that had walked there some 100 million years ago during the Cretaceous. 

Their find sparked scientific interest that led to the establishment of the Tumbler Ridge Museum and later the Tumbler Ridge Global Geopark. 

Since then, paleontologists have uncovered thousands of tracks in the area—from nimble theropods to massive sauropods—etched into the ancient riverbeds and preserving a vivid record of dinosaurs on the move in what was once a lush coastal plain. 

DINOSAUR RIDGE: DENVER, COLORADO

Tucked along the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains, just outside Denver, Colorado, lies one of the world’s most famous fossil localities: Dinosaur Ridge. 

This epic landscape is a place where deep time is etched into stone, where dinosaurs left their mark 150 million years ago, and where modern visitors can step directly into prehistory. It is a little like heaven!

The ridge is part of the Morrison Formation, a Late Jurassic rock unit renowned for its abundance of dinosaur fossils. Many of the first specimens that shaped our understanding of North American dinosaurs—including Stegosaurus, Apatosaurus, Diplodocus, and Allosaurus—were discovered here in the late 1800s during the feverish days of the Bone Wars — the famous fossil hunting fighting days of Cope and Marsh. 

Today, Dinosaur Ridge serves as both an outdoor museum and a natural classroom, where geology and paleontology meet fresh mountain air.

The main attraction is the Dinosaur Ridge Trail, a 1.5-mile paved walk (shuttle service is also available). Along the way, interpretive signs and viewing points highlight the ridge’s fossil treasures:

• Dinosaur tracks: Hundreds of fossilized footprints line the sandstone, most famously those of Iguanodon-like ornithopods and fearsome carnivorous theropods. Standing where a dinosaur once strode is both humbling and exhilarating.
• Ripple marks and mud cracks: These ancient impressions show that the area was once a shallow shoreline, where dinosaurs waded and water receded, leaving behind patterns still visible millions of years later.
• Bone quarries: Exposed rock layers reveal the same fossil-rich beds where early paleontologists extracted bones of long-necked sauropods and armored Stegosaurus.

The site also features striking geology, with tilted rock layers rising dramatically at an angle, giving visitors a clear glimpse into Earth’s shifting crust.

The Visitor Center Experience

Before or after the trail, the Dinosaur Ridge Visitor Center is worth a stop. Inside, you’ll find fossil replicas, hands-on activities for kids, and exhibits that tell the story of the dinosaurs and the scientists who first uncovered them. The staff and volunteers—many of them seasoned interpreters—bring the ridge’s history to life with enthusiasm.

What It Feels Like to Be There

Visiting Dinosaur Ridge gives all the "feels" you could ever ask for in a paleo field trip. The air is filled with the mingled scent of sagebrush and sun-warmed stone, while meadowlarks call from the surrounding grasslands. Standing beside a line of fossilized tracks, you can almost hear the splash of giant feet in mud, the rustle of prehistoric vegetation, and the low rumble of sauropods moving in herds. 

The contrast between Denver’s skyline in the distance and the Jurassic world beneath your feet makes for a surreal and unforgettable moment.

Planning Your Visit

• Location: Just off C-470 near Morrison, Colorado, about 25 minutes from downtown Denver.
• Best time to go: Spring and fall for cooler weather, though summer mornings can be pleasant.
• Accessibility: The paved trail is walkable, with shuttles available for those who prefer not to hike.
• Events: Check the Dinosaur Ridge website for guided tours, fossil festivals, and kids’ programs.

To stand on those rocks is to place yourself in a continuum of discovery, from the dinosaurs themselves, to the fossil hunters of the 19th century, to today’s scientists still uncovering new secrets. 

Whether you’re a lifelong paleontology fan or just curious about Earth’s story, Dinosaur Ridge offers a rare chance to literally walk in the footsteps of giants.

DINOSAUR EGGS: FRAGILE LINKS TO DINOSAUR REPRODUCTION

Hadrosaur Eggs

Standing before a clutch of fossilized dinosaur eggs for the first time is a deeply moving experience. Unlike towering skeletons or fearsome teeth, eggs speak to vulnerability and the quiet promise of life that never came to be.

I have found many fossil feathers (another personal fav) but have yet to find dino eggs or any egg for that matter. While my track record here is beyond sparse, dinosaur eggs have been found on nearly every continent, from the deserts of Mongolia to the floodplains of Montana and the nesting grounds of Patagonia. 

The discovery of dinosaur eggs offers one of the most intimate glimpses into the life history of these long-extinct animals. Unlike bones or teeth, eggs preserve direct evidence of reproduction, nesting strategies, and even embryonic development. 

Over the last century, paleontologists and citizen scientists have uncovered thousands of fossilized eggs and eggshell fragments across the globe, revealing that dinosaurs laid their clutches in diverse environments ranging from deserts to floodplains.

Early Discoveries — The first scientifically recognized dinosaur eggs were discovered in the 1920s by the American Museum of Natural History’s Central Asiatic Expeditions to Mongolia’s Gobi Desert. 

Led by Roy Chapman Andrews, these expeditions unearthed clutches of round, fossilized eggs in the Djadokhta Formation. Initially misattributed to Protoceratops, later discoveries showed they belonged to the bird-like and immensely cool theropod Oviraptor. This corrected attribution changed the understanding of dinosaur nesting, particularly with the revelation of adults preserved brooding on nests.

Asia: The Richest Record — Asia remains the richest continent for dinosaur eggs.

Mongolia: The Gobi Desert has yielded numerous oviraptorid and hadrosaurid eggs, often preserved in nesting sites.

China: The Henan and Guangdong Provinces have produced abundant eggs, including complete clutches of hadrosaurs, theropods, and titanosaurs. Some sites, such as the Xixia Basin, contain thousands of eggshell fragments, telling us that these were long-term nesting grounds. Embryos preserved within eggs, like those of Beibeilong sinensis, provide rare developmental insights.

India: Extensive titanosaur nests from the Lameta Formation demonstrate colonial nesting behavior and some of the largest known egg accumulations.

North America has also yielded important dinosaur egg sites. Montana: The Two Medicine Formation preserves fossilized nests of hadrosaurids like Maiasaura peeblesorum, discovered by Jack Horner in the late 1970s. These finds gave rise to the concept of “good mother lizard,” as evidence suggested parental care and extended nesting.

Utah and Colorado: Eggshell fragments and isolated eggs of sauropods and theropods have been reported, though less commonly than in Asia.

South America: Sauropod Hatcheries — Argentina is home to some of the most significant sauropod nesting sites. In Patagonia, the Auca Mahuevo locality preserves thousands of titanosaur eggs, many with fossilized embryos inside. This site demonstrates large-scale nesting colonies and offers clues to sauropod reproductive strategies, including shallow burial of eggs in soft sediment.

Europe: A Widespread Record — Europe has produced diverse dinosaur egg finds, particularly in France, Spain, and Portugal. In southern France, sauropod egg sites such as those in the Provence region reveal clutches laid in sandy floodplains. Spain’s Tremp Formation contains both hadrosaurid and sauropod eggs, some associated with trackways, linking nesting and movement behavior.

Africa: Expanding the Map — Egg discoveries in Africa are less common but significant. In Morocco and Madagascar, titanosaur eggs have been recovered, suggesting a widespread distribution of sauropod nesting across Gondwana.

Dinosaur eggs fossilize under specific conditions. Burial by sediment soon after laying, mineral-rich groundwater for permineralization, and relative protection from erosion. Eggshell microstructure, pore density, and arrangement allow paleontologists to infer incubation strategies, from buried clutches similar to modern crocodilians to open nests akin to modern birds.

These fossils are remarkable for their beauty and rarity but also for the wealth of biological information they provide. These elusive fossils help us to understand dinosaur reproduction, nesting behaviour, and evolutionary ties to modern birds. I will continue my hunt and post pics to share with all of you if the Paleo Gods smile on me!

SPINOSAURUS: BIGGER THAN T-REX. APEX. ALIEN

Spinosaurus the Spine Lizard of the Cretaceous

This beautiful big boy painted in yellow, green and blue is Spinosaurus aegyptiacus. 

Bigger than T. rex, armed with crocodile-like jaws and a towering sail, it ruled both land and water.

Picture it slicing through ancient swamps, fish thrashing in its jaws, its sail cutting the horizon like a ship’s mast of bone. Apex. Alien.

Unstoppable.

Spinosaurus (meaning "spine lizard") is a genus of spinosaurid dinosaur that lived in what now is North Africa during the Cenomanian to upper Turonian in the Late Cretaceous— 99 to 93.5 million years ago. 

The genus was known first from Egyptian remains discovered in 1912 and described by German palaeontologist Ernst Stromer in 1915. 

The original remains were destroyed in World War II, but additional material came to light in the early 21st century.  It is unclear whether one or two species are represented in the fossils reported in the scientific literature. The best known species is S. aegyptiacus from Egypt, although a potential second species, S. maroccanus, has been recovered from Morocco. The contemporary spinosaurid genus Sigilmassasaurus has also been synonymized by some authors with S. aegyptiacus, though other researchers propose it to be a distinct taxon. 

In 2014, Ibrahim and his colleagues suggested that Spinosaurus aegyptiacus could reach over 15 metres (49 ft) in length. 

In 2022, however, Paul Sereno and his colleagues suggested that Spinosaurus aegyptiacus reached a maximum body length of 14 metres (46 ft) and a maximum body mass of 7.4 metric tons (8.2 short tons) by constructing an adult flesh model "with the axial column in neutral pose."

Spinosaurus is the longest known terrestrial carnivore; other large carnivores comparable to Spinosaurus include theropods such as Tyrannosaurus, Giganotosaurus and Carcharodontosaurus. This was a big fella. S. aegyptiacus reached 14 metres (46 ft) in length and 7.4 metric tons (8.2 short tons) in body mass and was a terrifying predator in his day. 

The skull of Spinosaurus was long, low, and narrow, similar to that of a modern crocodilian, and bore straight conical teeth with no serrations. It would have had large, robust forelimbs bearing three-fingered hands, with an enlarged claw on the first digit. 

The distinctive neural spines of Spinosaurus, which were long extensions of the vertebrae (or backbones), grew to at least 1.65 meters (5.4 ft) long and were likely to have had skin connecting them, forming a sail-like structure, although some have suggested that the spines were covered in fat to form hump. I would definitely exit the water if I knew that these was the hunting grounds of these stealthy predators. 

TRICERATOPS: HORNED GIANT OF THE LATE CRETACEOUS

Imagine standing on the edge of a warm, subtropical floodplain 66 million years ago. 

The air hums with insects, dragonflies dart over shallow pools, and cicada-like calls echo through the dense stands of magnolias and cycads. 

A herd of Triceratops horridus moves slowly across the open landscape, their massive, parrot-like beaks tearing into low-growing ferns and palm fronds. Each step sinks slightly into the damp soil, leaving broad three-toed tracks. 

The ground vibrates with the low, resonant bellows they use to keep in contact with one another, a chorus of sound that carries across the plain.

You might catch glimpses of other giants sharing the same world. Herds of hadrosaurs—Edmontosaurus—graze nearby, their duck-billed snouts sweeping back and forth through the vegetation like living lawnmowers. 

Overhead, toothed seabirds wheel and cry, their calls mixing with the shrieks of distant pterosaurs. And lurking at the edges of the scene, half-hidden among the trees, the apex predator Tyrannosaurus rex waits, its presence felt more than seen, a reminder that this landscape is ruled by both plant-eaters and their formidable hunters.

Triceratops was one of the last and largest ceratopsians, measuring up to 9 meters (30 feet) long and weighing as much as 12 metric tons. Its most iconic features were the three horns—two long brow horns above the eyes and a shorter horn on the nose—backed by a broad bony frill. These structures were likely used for defense against predators like T. rex, but also for display within their own species, signaling dominance, maturity, or readiness to mate.

Its beak and shearing dental batteries made Triceratops a highly efficient plant-eater. Unlike many earlier ceratopsians, it possessed hundreds of teeth stacked in dental batteries, capable of slicing through tough, fibrous plants like cycads and palms that flourished in the Late Cretaceous.

Triceratops lived at the very end of the Cretaceous, in what is now western North America, within the region known as Laramidia, a long island continent separated from eastern North America by the Western Interior Seaway. 

Alongside Triceratops, this ecosystem hosted a staggering diversity of dinosaurs, including ankylosaurs (like Ankylosaurus magniventris), duck-billed hadrosaurs, pachycephalosaurs, and smaller predators like Dakotaraptor. Crocodilians, turtles, and mammals also thrived in the wetlands and forests.

Fossil evidence suggests that Triceratops may have lived in herds, though adults are often found alone, hinting at possible solitary behavior outside of mating or nesting seasons. Juveniles, on the other hand, may have grouped together for protection.

Triceratops was among the very last non-avian dinosaurs before the mass extinction event at the Cretaceous–Paleogene (K–Pg) boundary, 66 million years ago. Their fossils are found in the uppermost layers of the Hell Creek Formation, placing them just before the asteroid impact that ended the Mesozoic. Triceratops mark the end of an era, as it were, representing both the culmination of ceratopsian evolution and the twilight of the age of dinosaurs.

Today, Triceratops remains one of the most recognizable dinosaurs in the world and a personal fav—its horns and frill embodying the strange beauty and raw power of prehistoric life. Standing face-to-face with a Triceratops skeleton in a museum is awe-inspiring, but to truly imagine them alive, you must step back into their world: warm floodplains, buzzing insects, herds of plant-eaters, and the constant tension of predators in the shadows.

STEGOSAURUS: PLATED GIANT OF THE JURASSIC

Few dinosaurs are as instantly recognizable as Stegosaurus, with its double row of towering bony plates and spiked tail. 

This impressive herbivore, whose name means “roofed lizard,” roamed western North America about 155–150 million years ago during the Late Jurassic. 

Fossils of Stegosaurus have been found primarily in the Morrison Formation, a magnificent rock unit famous for preserving one of the most diverse dinosaur ecosystems ever discovered.

Stegosaurus could reach up to 9 meters (30 feet) in length but had a disproportionately small head with a brain roughly the size of a walnut. 

Despite this, it thrived as a low-browser, feeding on ferns, cycads, and other ground-level plants using its beak-like mouth and peg-shaped teeth. Its most iconic features were the dermal plates, some nearly a meter tall, running down its back. Their function remains debated—some have proposed they were used for display, species recognition, or thermoregulation.

At the end of its tail, Stegosaurus bore four long spikes, known as the thagomizer. 

Evidence from fossilized injuries on predator bones suggests these were formidable weapons, capable of piercing the flesh of even the largest carnivores.

Stegosaurus did not live in isolation. It shared its world with a cast of iconic dinosaurs and other ancient animals:

• Sauropods such as Apatosaurus, Diplodocus, and Brachiosaurus dominated the floodplains, their long necks sweeping across the tree canopy.
• Predators like Allosaurus and Ceratosaurus stalked the ecosystem, preying on herbivores. The spikes of Stegosaurus would have been a key defense against these hunters.
• Ornithopods, including Camptosaurus and Dryosaurus, grazed alongside Stegosaurus, representing smaller, quicker plant-eaters.
• Early mammals, small and shrew-like, scurried through the underbrush, while flying pterosaurs soared overhead.
• Freshwater systems hosted fish, turtles, and crocodile relatives, rounding out the ecosystem.

Interesting Facts

• The brain-to-body ratio of Stegosaurus is one of the smallest of any dinosaur, fueling the myth that it had a “second brain” in its hips—an idea no longer supported by science.
• Tracks attributed to stegosaurs suggest they may have moved in small groups, possibly for protection.
• Despite its fearsome appearance, Stegosaurus was strictly an herbivore. Its teeth were too weak to chew tough vegetation, meaning it likely swallowed food in large chunks.
• And, being one of my best loved dinosaurs, I chose Stegosaurus as one of my logos for the Fossil Huntress. This gentle giant is one of my all time favourites!

Stegosaurus lived tens of millions of years before the rise of dinosaurs like Tyrannosaurus rex, and remains one of the most beloved prehistoric creatures. Its strange mix of delicate feeding adaptations and heavy defensive weaponry highlights the balance of survival in the Jurassic ecosystem.

For those that love paleo art, check out the work of Daniel Eskridge (shared with permission here) to see more of his work and purchase some to bring into your world by visiting: https://daniel-eskridge.pixels.com/

VICTORIA ARBOUR: ARMOURED GIANTS, ANCIENT ECOSYSTEMS AND CUTTING EDGE CANADIAN PALEONTOLOGY

Dr. Victoria Arbour

Dr. Victoria Arbour, Curator of Paleontology at the Royal BC Museum in Victoria, British Columbia, is one of Canada’s foremost vertebrate paleontologists. 

Specializing in ankylosaurs—the club-tailed, heavily armored dinosaurs of the Cretaceous—Arbour has become a leading voice in both the scientific community and the public eye, reshaping how we understand dinosaur evolution, biomechanics, and paleobiogeography. 

Her research bridges detailed anatomical study with innovative technologies, yielding groundbreaking discoveries about how these ancient creatures lived, fought, and evolved. Charmingly humble and unassuming, she is a delight in the field and in front of the lens.

Victoria Arbour completed her Ph.D. at the University of Alberta under the supervision of renowned paleontologist Dr. Philip Currie. Her early work focused on ankylosaurid dinosaurs, particularly the tail club structures that define the group. 

Her doctoral thesis and subsequent studies dissected the biomechanics of ankylosaur tail clubs, demonstrating that these dinosaurs likely used their tails as active weapons—a concept that was previously more speculative than evidenced.

In one of her early papers, Arbour and Currie (2011) reconstructed the tail club’s structure and function using finite element analysis and compared it to weapon systems in modern animals. Her work helped establish ankylosaurs as more than passive tanks; they were dynamic animals capable of delivering powerful, bone-breaking blows to rivals or predators.

New Dinosaurs for a New Generation

Among Arbour’s most significant contributions are the descriptions and naming of several new species of ankylosaurs, including:

Zuul crurivastator (2017): Arbour co-authored the paper describing Zuul, a remarkably complete ankylosaur fossil from Montana. Named after the Ghostbusters monster, Zuul is preserved with intact skin impressions and tail club spikes. The species name, crurivastator, means "destroyer of shins"—a nod to its powerful tail weapon. The find gave paleontologists unprecedented insight into ankylosaur soft tissue, armor arrangement, and injury patterns.

Ziapelta sanjuanensis (2014): As lead author, Arbour described this ankylosaur from New Mexico, expanding the known diversity of North American ankylosaurs and underscoring biogeographic connections between Canada and the southwestern United States during the Late Cretaceous.

British Columbia’s Dinosaur Heritage

As Curator at the Royal BC Museum, Arbour plays a critical role in paleontology in British Columbia—a province better known for marine reptiles than for terrestrial dinosaurs. Nevertheless, her work has amplified interest in BC’s unique fossil heritage, from the ichthyosaurs of the Peace Region to marine reptiles like the Courtenay Elasmosaur.

Arbour has partnered with local scientists and citizen paleontologists to help elevate BC’s presence on the paleontological map. She has advocated for fossil protection legislation and regularly engages with the public through museum exhibits, interviews, and school outreach.

Technology Meets Deep Time

Arbour is also part of a wave of paleontologists bringing high-tech tools to ancient bones. She frequently uses 3D scanning, photogrammetry, and CT imaging to study fossils in unprecedented detail. These methods allow her to reconstruct the internal anatomy of ankylosaurs, visualize muscle attachment points, and model how these creatures moved and fought.

In her 2020 publication with Mallon and Evans, Arbour examined the distribution of ankylosaur fossils across North America and evaluated their evolutionary history. 

Using phylogenetic methods and morphometric analyses, she tracked how isolation and habitat shifts influenced ankylosaur evolution—helping explain why Canada’s ankylosaurs were different from those in the southern U.S.

Champion of Public Science

Beyond her research, Arbour is a passionate advocate for science communication and equity in paleontology. Her Twitter feed, popular talks, and media appearances make complex science accessible and fun. She has written popular articles for The Conversation, participated in CBC’s Quirks & Quarks, and is a familiar face in science outreach events across Canada.

She is a very engaging speaker. For those who joined us for Arbour's engaging talk to the Vancouver Paleontological Society and members of the British Columbia Paleontological Alliance on her fieldwork at the Carbon Creek Basin Dinosaur Trackway—and so many others—will be pleased to hear that she will be delivering a talk on her most recent work at this 15th BCPA Symposium in Courtenay, August 22-25, 2025. 

The Carbon Creek Basin site is located just west of Hudson’s Hope in the Peace River area and boasts nearly 1,200 dinosaur tracks from at least 12 different types of dinosaurs—including two dinosaur track types that have not been observed at any other site in the Peace Region. Her talk showcased her work and her spirit in the field—coated in mud, dust and battling blackflies, but smiling through it all in the thrill of discovery.

Her mentorship of young scientists and support for women and underrepresented groups in science has made her a role model in the field. 

Dr. Victoria Arbour’s work continues to deepen our understanding of how dinosaurs lived and interacted in their environments. Her contributions are a testament to the power of curiosity, perseverance, and scientific rigor. In the layered rocks of Alberta and the museum halls of Victoria, her legacy is already well-anchored—and growing with every new discovery.

Here are some key scientific papers authored or co-authored by Dr. Victoria Arbour:

Arbour, V. M., & Currie, P. J. (2011). Ankylosaurid dinosaur tail clubs evolved through stepwise acquisition of key features. Journal of Anatomy, 219(6), 672–685. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1469-7580.2011.01437.x

Arbour, V. M., Zanno, L. E., & Evans, D. C. (2014). A new ankylosaurid dinosaur from the Judith River Formation of Montana, USA, based on a complete skull and tail club. Royal Society Open Science, 4(5): 161086. https://doi.org/10.1098/rsos.161086

Arbour, V. M., & Evans, D. C. (2017). A new ankylosaurine dinosaur from the Judith River Formation of Montana, USA, based on a complete skull and tail club. Royal Society Open Science, 4: 161086. https://doi.org/10.1098/rsos.161086

Brown, C. M., Henderson, D. M., Vinther, J., Fletcher, I., Sistiaga, A., Herrera, J., & Arbour, V. M. (2017). An exceptionally preserved armored dinosaur reveals the morphology and allometry of keratinous structures. Current Biology, 27(16), 2514–2521.e3. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cub.2017.06.071

Arbour, V. M., & Evans, D. C. (2020). A new ankylosaurine dinosaur from the Judith River Formation, Montana, USA, and implications for the diversification and biogeography of Late Cretaceous ankylosaurs. PeerJ, 8:e9603. https://doi.org/10.7717/peerj.9603

Arbour, V. M., & Currie, P. J. (2013). Anatomy, evolution, and function of tail clubbing in ankylosaurs (Dinosauria: Ornithischia). Journal of Zoology, 292(2), 111–117. https://doi.org/10.1111/jzo.12033

15TH BCPA PALEONTOLOGICAL SYMPOSIUM: COURTENAY, BRITISH COLUMBIA

SAVE THE DATE: 15th British Columbia Paleontological Symposium

Florence Filberg Centre, 411 Anderton Avenue, Courtenay, British Columbia, on the Traditional Territory of the K’ómoks First Nation, August 22-25, 2025

CELEBRATING THE PALEONTOLOGICAL BOUNTY OF THE COMOX VALLEY

The conference features over a dozen speakers in paleontology from Vancouver Island, mainland British Columbia, and beyond. 

This year, we’re celebrating Courtenay’s own Traskasaura sandrae—a 12-metre-long marine elasmosaur discovered by Mike Trask along the Puntledge River. The fossil was recently named in the Journal of Systematic Paleontology, earning international recognition.

Traskasaura sandrae is a newly identified genus and species of elasmosaurid plesiosaur, a long-necked marine reptile, discovered in British Columbia, Canada. 

The fossil, found along the Puntledge River on Vancouver Island, are from the Late Cretaceous (Santonian age), roughly 86 to 84 million years ago. Traskasaura sandrae is notable for its robust teeth, potentially adapted for crushing ammonites, and a unique mix of primitive and derived skeletal features, suggesting it was a powerful predator adapted for diving. 

As well as highlighting this significant find and honouring the amazing life of Mike Trask, the symposium has an exciting lineup of scientific presentations, hands-on workshops, a paleontology-themed art exhibition, poster presentations, and guided field trips. 

These events provide exciting opportunities to explore and celebrate the rich geological and paleontological history of Vancouver Island, bringing together world-renowned paleontologists, citizen scientists, fossil enthusiasts, researchers, artists, and the public in a vibrant exchange of ideas and inspiration.

Our Keynote Speaker is Dr. Kirk Johnson, Sant Director of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History, where he oversees the world's largest natural history collection. 

As a field paleontologist, he has led expeditions in eighteen US states and eleven countries with a research focus on fossil plants and the extinction of the dinosaurs. He is known for his scientific articles, popular books, museum exhibitions, documentaries, and collaborations with artists.

BRITISH COLUMBIA PALEONTOLOGICAL ALLIANCE (BCPA)

The British Columbia Paleontological Alliance (BCPA) is a collaborative network of organisations led by professional and citizen scientists, working to advance the science of paleontology in the province. 

Together, they promote fossil research and discovery through public education, responsible scientific collecting, and open communication among paleontologists, citizen scientists, fossil enthusiasts, researchers, and educators.

Every two years, the BCPA hosts a Paleontological Symposium, bringing together experts and the public from across Canada, North America, and beyond to share the latest research and discoveries related to British Columbia's fossil heritage.  To learn more, visit www.bcfossils.ca.

VANCOUVER ISLAND PALEONTOLOGICAL SOCIETY (HOST ORGANIZATION):

This year, the Vancouver Island Paleontological Society (VIPS) is proud to host the 15th BCPA Symposium in Courtenay, in partnership with the Courtenay and District Museum & Palaeontology Centre. 

Founded in 1992 and based in the Comox Valley, VIPS is a nonprofit society with charitable status in good standing dedicated to fostering public engagement with the natural world through field trips, workshops, symposia, and public lectures that bring science to life for the community. 

COMMUNITY SPONSORSHIP, SILENT AUCTION ITEMS & WELCOME BAGS: 

As host, the VIPS is currently welcoming sponsorship contributions and donations for the symposium's silent auction to help us offset conference costs, including printing, venue rental, catering, insurance, and participant support. We are also seeking items to include in our Welcome Bags for conference attendees, offering an excellent opportunity to showcase local businesses and community spirit. 

Sponsors will be publicly recognised at the conference, within the Courtenay and District Museum, and across our social media platforms. Tax receipts are available for eligible donations.

Sponsorship cheques made out to the Vancouver Island Paleontological Society can be mailed to 930 Sandpines Drive, Comox, BC, V9M 3V3. Attn: 15th BCPA Symposium 2025.

We would be honoured to have your support—your contribution would bring meaningful value to this exciting scientific event. If you have an item to donate to our silent auction or to include in our Welcome Bags, we would be sincerely grateful and can arrange for convenient pickup. 

To get involved or learn more, please contact us at bcpaleo.events@gmail.com—we’d love to hear from you! 

Warm regards on behalf of the 15th BCPA Organising Committee.