The Great Plains are always changing. Some changes are instantaneous, obvious to even the casual glance, like those wrought by wildfires — so common lately in these drought years. Other transformations are measured in generations; Thomas Jefferson's push for the cast-iron plow has probably had the largest impact (not all good), in less than ten generations. But it's the big and slow alterations I'm interested in here: how the heartland of America went from a shallow sea to a tropical rain forest to a frigid Ice Age wilderness, over the course of millions of years.

If you, too, are interested in bizarre animals, bonebeds and learning how the world got to where it is, then you need to check out the Mammoth Site of Hot Springs, South Dakota! This is a wonderful, "working" museum, but open to the public. I say "working," for the excavation is ongoing, and yet you can look over a paleontologist's shoulder and see what's currently being unearthed.

Mammoths Galore

The Mammoth Site of Hot Springs gives you a real feel for what the Great Plains must have been like some 26,000 years ago. More than 40 wooly and Columbian mammoths have been uncovered here in the past quarter century. What makes this particular bonebed so special is that the fossils lie in situ. The mammoths died around a spring fed pond, and then were preserved intact. No scavengers dragged bones away and no water erosion carried scattered carcasses downstream. Supposedly this is the largest concentration in the world of mammoths still in their deathbeds, untouched.

The story of the Mammoth Site is quite interesting. In 1974 a local developer began a housing project here with a bit of land excavation. Some unusual bones and tusks turned up unexpectedly. As I heard the story from a local, the developer's son was a student at Chadron State College, not far away, across the border in Nebraska. Apparently the student mentioned the find to one of his professors there. Before long, the cat was out of the bag, the housing project abandoned and a dig was underway.

A wonderful building was constructed around the sinkhole. In this way, paleontologists could continue their work unimpeded by the elements, and luckily for us, the general public can step inside to see the fossils uncovered to date. See the picture to the right.

We rolled in one rainy day in 1993 and spent a fantastic three or four hours here. There are nice galleries and staircases which take you to great observation points. Besides the mammoths, quite a few other animals have been discovered, and their fossilized skeletons are on display in various nicely arranged exhibits.

I enjoyed strolling up to the higher points and looking down on the wooly and Columbian mammoth remains, trying to imagine things such as what did they sound and smell like (loud and foul I should think.) Just in general, stopping to gaze at the bones and pondering what the land must have been like back then really took me out of myself. As the picture to the left shows, the researchers have done an impeccable job of patiently sweeping away the sediment from the bones. You can truly imagine an enormous, breathing, flesh and blood behemoth.

We finished off our time here by looking over the book and gift shop near the front lobby. No doubt I picked up a guide or map or something or other.

The Mammoth Site of Hot Springs is open year round, but the hours vary by season. Check out the external link below for details.

By the way, if you fancy this sort of attraction, then be sure to see Ashfall Fossil Beds State Historic Park and Agate Fossil Beds National Monument, both in Nebraska. And of course, there are some good fossil exhibits in Badlands National Park and the Museum of Geology at the South Dakota School of Mines and Technology in Rapid City.

A Bit about Hot Springs

I still recall pulling into Hot Springs for the first time, back in 1993. (For the record, I had a different companion then). We approached from the south and I was struck at once by the beauty of the pine covered valleys and the colorful exposed rocks all over. It was breathtaking, and Hot Springs is one of the prettiest towns I've ever seen.

There are still lots of historic buildings constructed of cut stone here and a real downtown. We had decided to eschew the touristy type motels (swimming pools, mini-golf, etc.) and stay at one of the oldest and most historic. This was actually a hotel from back in the 1800s, and had an AAA rating at one time, which made it seem like a good choice. Actually, the place had been built as a medicinal spa, right on top of one of the mineral water hot springs that gave the town its name.

We pulled into the lot across the street, grabbed our luggage and headed for the lobby. An impressive stone building greeted us, and the interior with all of its antique fittings and furniture was straight out of the Wild West of a hundred years ago. Very nice! Giving it a bit of an otherworldly feel was the fact that not a soul was stirring; a dead silence filled the corridors.

I noticed a hastily scrawled sign on the check-in counter: "I'm in the kitchen — come get me if you need help." So I did. As it turns out, one guy was running the show that afternoon, a friendly chap by the name of Dirk. Since it was slow in the front lobby, he had popped back to the kitchen to prep some things for supper that night. (This hotel featured its own restaurant right on the premises.) While taking care of the paperwork of checking in, we chatted about this and that and it sort of came out that he was more or less handling everything that day. He was the chef, lobby clerk, bellhop, errand boy, switchboard operator and who knows what else.

Later that night, in the restaurant, we met the pleasant dark-eyed and shy waitress. Dirk was in the kitchen cooking our meals. It became apparent that two people were operating the whole darn historic hotel and restaurant! I had the misfortune to watch another patron berate the waitress for some trivial aspect of his meal; he was a member of two older couples who had just come back from the golf club I imagine — some Black Hills bluebloods they fancied themselves. I made an apparently under-the-breath comment to shut them up. I really liked Dirk and the quiet waitress and wanted the offensive hoity-toity foursome to give us some peace.

Bring on the Dirkster!

As you've no doubt observed, this Web site is a trifle self-indulgent, and I tend to ramble on about what may appear to be inconsequentials. But I've had such fun out West, and so fondly recall the little things that I feel compelled to jot them down. One final memory. It rained cats and dogs the following day, and the ground was truly soggy. (By the way, I love rainy days, so this was just what the doctor ordered.) As we came back to the hotel from our day trip to Wind Cave National Park, we had to pass over a road construction area. Flagmen and earth movers were hard at work in the drenched terrain. The soil here, in places, is a deep rust red and very clay like. By the time we got back into Hot Springs, my minivan was completely encrusted with pounds and pounds of the sludgy red mud, as were all of the other cars which came through the construction zone. But lo! The Hot Springs Chamber of Commerce was there to greet us. They had set up a number of hydrants in a welcome center where we could all hose down our cars. Wow!

I have nothing but the kindest memories of Hot Springs, Dirk and the soft-spoken waitress.

• Federal
  • Agate Fossil Beds National Monument
  
  
• State
  • Ashfall Fossil Beds State Historical Park
  
  
• Municipal
  • City of Hot Springs
  
  
• Other Interesting Sites
  • Chadron State College
  • The Mammoth Saga
  • The Plow
  • SD School of Mines Museum of Geology