Heads down, walking slowly through the dry grass, we meander. Usually, its just Quinlan and I, though, occasionally, another child or two will bounce by, peering at the dirt, then rush off to play Pokemon or Star Wars or some other made up role playing game. They ask if Quinlan would like to join in and he’ll politely decline, preferring the adrenaline laced squeal when success appears from the dirt.
Thousands of years of occupation turned the Big Horn Mountains into an archaeologist’s dream. I remember my field school professor telling me I could work my lifetime in the Mountains or the Big Horn Basin and not scratch the surface of all that went on… While my archaeology career only lasted a few years, I’ve never stopped loving the little remnants of past peoples. Stone circles (tipi rings), fire pits, scrapers, blades, and points are the remaining traces. Pottery is rare and not overly high quality. Soapstone pots are found on occasion as are post holes for permanent shelter. The relics of the prehistoric lives of nomadic hunters and gatherers have disappeared. Except for stone tools. If we have time, Quinlan and I are on the search.
Our first time out during lunch, we found these.
By the time work was over and we waited on the last cleanup chores to be completed, we were off again, heads down, kicking the dirt. I took mainly videos and didn’t even corner Quinlan for pics of his treasures. Here are rest of mine… the best day I’ve had in forever!
I hope Quinlan remembers these days and it will spark a lifelong interest on those who came before us.Find me here!