After a jostling ride with my husband and our three kids along a brick-red ridge just outside Thermopolis, Wyo., the view unfolded beautifully: rolling red hills, deep green grasslands and an intense blue sky with cottony clouds.
Standing on that ridge in a cap, flannel shirt and work boots, Chris Racay, collections manager for the Wyoming Dinosaur Center, pulled back a blue tarp that covered a swath of broken ground.
"Where you're walking, dinosaurs walked 150 million years ago," he said.
We crouched down to see the charcoal black treasures: a juvenile sauropod shoulder blade, tail vertebrae and parts of other bones, all which stood out against the gray-green soil.
Like a family from Oklahoma down the ridge from us, we were getting one-on-one coaching from a paleontologist and a chance to literally dig into history. With any luck, we'd uncover bones buried longer than humans have walked the Earth.
Digging in
Over and over we gently wedged sturdy oyster knives into the dry soil, looking for bone fragments or teeth as our 5-year-old daughter Katie eagerly yet carefully brushed the unproductive dirt into a dustpan and took it to a discard pile. The work felt surprisingly satisfying and it wasn't long before our 9-year-old son cried out, "I found one!"
He continued to gently sweep away the crusty earth to reveal what looked like a black streak. Probably a rib bone, we were told.