Early in the day, I gathered up water, snacks (for me and the doggies) and binoculars, and headed up the Jeep road, into the gashed and weathered hills above Fort Peck Lake. Wary of snakes, I sternly commanded the dogs to stay behind me and, surprisingly, they obeyed. As we walked, swarms of grasshoppers exploded like popcorn around my feet. Most make no sound, but there are larger ones, with inner wings of bright yellow or red, that make a harsh clacking as they fly. On either side, sagebrush, coarse grasses, fatbush, juniper, and prickly pear speckled the ground, and stunted evergreens clung impossibly to the hillsides.

A young man at camp told me that, as a boy growing up in Ohio, he dreamed of seeing Hell Creek, where the first T. rex skeleton was found, and where important discoveries of Triceratops and other fossils were made. Even today, new fossils are found as bones literally appear out of eroded hillsides, and I was eager to discover the area for myself.

We walked on, the heat oppressive even in the early morning, and soon the dogs were panting. I didn’t need encouragement to stop frequently, to take in the amazing views. These badlands, I’m told, run all along the Missouri River, and in many other areas where water has carved deep, twisting canyons through the soft sandstone. Wherever harder rock inclusions exist, they form fantastic sculptures. 

We reached the sign telling us of the importance of these fossil beds, and warning us not to disturb the fossils. As we trudged on, now on a single track trail, I looked at the crumbling hillsides on either side.

They were littered with broken rocks, pieces of larger shapes now crushed by the elements. As I sat to water and feed the dogs and myself, I looked down and spotted a thin sliver of rock with the faint outline of a leaf impressed on it. 

That’s when I knew I was very likely walking on the bones of ancient beings. I sat for a while, contemplating the very different planet on which they lived and died. Then we walked—carefully—back down to camp.