More than a rock
Our intrepid colleague's dig diary from her fossil-finding expedition to Ghost Ranch, New Mexico.
By Bridget Altman Paskil
Our intrepid colleague shares a first-person account of her fossil-finding expedition to Ghost Ranch, New Mexico, and how she learned how to distinguish between ordinary sediment and something extraordinary. “You develop an instinct for when a rock is not actually a rock at all.”
In early August 2025, I found myself walking down a meandering trail in the high desert of New Mexico, half a mile from a hidden turnoff across from the Ghost Ranch property. The beautiful, sandy hills ahead didn't look like much other than a pretty landscape to the untrained eye, but our paleontologists call this place "The Hayden Quarry"—and it is home to secrets 212 million years in the making.
Ghost Ranch is one of the world's most prestigious fossil sites, famous for preserving Late Triassic creatures like the ferocious Coelophysis and countless early dinosaurs, reptiles, and their relatives. I had the extraordinary privilege of joining our NHM Dinosaur Institute paleontologists and students there, along with some of the museum’s Trustees and donors, for a hands-on dino dig experience that would forever change how I see the world (and rocks!) beneath my feet.
Our team of about 15 divided into two smaller groups, with each person in each group claiming their own "bench"—a tiered section of the quarry. The work is meticulous and surprisingly gentle. The fragile, soft rock requires delicate tools: dissection spears and screwdrivers to chip away at our benches, brushes, and broom heads to clear debris, and keen eyes to examine every fragment. We brush away layers of “mudstone” to reach our prize: the Petrified Forest Member, a subdivision of the Chinle Formation, what our paleontologists called “the bone layer”, ancient fluvial deposits where flowing rivers once carried silt that perfectly preserved the bones of creatures from 212 million years ago.
This is where the magic happens—learning to distinguish between ordinary sediment and something extraordinary. The more rocks you examine, the more your eyes attune to subtle differences. A slightly different color. An unusual texture. A weight that doesn't feel quite right. You develop an instinct for when a rock is not actually a rock at all.
On my first full day, hunched over my bench in the desert sun, I spotted something that made my heart beat fast. It was darker than the surrounding stone. Harder, too. I tried to contain my excitement until Dr. Nate Smith, our Gretchen Augustyn Director & Curator of the Dinosaur Institute, confirmed what I'd hoped: I'd found a scapula of an archosaur, a member of the group that includes dinosaurs and crocodiles.
That evening, our entire team gathered in the lab of The Ruth Hall Museum of Paleontology at Ghost Ranch. Under bright lights, giddy from the day's hard work, we clamored for "the book"—the official catalog where each discovery becomes part of the expedition’s record for the year. I carefully labeled “my” bone and assigned it a catalog number, one of over 40 finds to be catalogued that day. Around me, others documented their own treasures: a drepanosaur humerus found by our Trustee, Maggie Levy, phytosaur osteoderms found by dedicated volunteer Nina Yankovic, and even coprolites (fossil poop!)—each piece adding to our understanding of this ancient world.
But my most thrilling moment came on the last morning. As I worked my bench one final time, I uncovered what would be my largest find: phalanges—toe or finger bones—of an archosaur. The familiar surge of recognition hit me as I carefully brushed away 212 million years of sediment. When Dr. Smith confirmed my discovery, he guided me through applying a Paraloid adhesive with a pipette to strengthen these fragile bones in their soft rock matrix—essential protection for their safe removal and future journey back to Los Angeles. I couldn't help but jump for joy before proudly adding them to the “to be catalogued” pile, knowing they would soon join others heading back to NHM for study and research.
There's something profound about being the first person to see something that has been hidden in darkness for 212 million years. In that moment, holding those ancient bones, I understood that sometimes a rock is far more than a rock—it's a direct connection to life on Earth before anything like us humans existed. Every fossil we uncover at Ghost Ranch adds another piece to our understanding of life's incredible journey. And in learning to see the difference between a rock and a fossil, we learn to see the extraordinary hiding within the ordinary—a skill that extends far beyond any quarry.
