Dinosaur Days

Rules for dinosaur hunting:

1) Bring plenty of irradiated chocolate milk boxes.

2) Remember to bring the guidebook.

3) Don’t forget the sunscreen, hats, first-aid kit and the like.

4) More chocolate milk.

5) Brownies are better than trail mix. Especially if you don’t bring enough chocolate milk.

This list may save you from being tied to an anthill and left to your fate, an end I barely escaped on a recent outing inspired by the “Dinosaur Hunter’s Kit” (Running Press: $17.95) because I forgot Nos. 2 and 4 from the list above.

At about a half-mile into a hike on the Eaton Canyon nature trail in Altadena on a very warm Saturday afternoon, my hearty band of dino hunters were tired of the heat, tired of the dust and really tired of their cheerleading idiot guide (who had promised a cold stream and perhaps even a waterfall, not to mention deer, bears, Fred Flintstone, John Wayne searching for Natalie Wood, and so on) telling them the best stuff was just around the bend.

In short, I had a rebellion on my hands, so I gathered the troops at a shady spot and passed out the first and last round of chocolate milk. And reached for the “Dinosaur Hunter’s Handbook.”

Which wasn’t there, having been left in the car, forgotten in a flurry of last-minute booger jokes and karate kicks--”Just practicing for class, Mr. Zimmerman”--to my shins.

So I winged it as best I could, dredging up what I could remember from the book and supplementing it with bits and pieces of ancient biology texts and late-night movies to enlighten, entertain and educate (well, maybe one out of three) my young charges, who were quickly refreshed by the shade and sugared milk and happy to make fun of my stories and ideas. More important, they were ready to venture forth, and in another quarter-mile we found a stream to splash around in and build a dam in.

The long day’s journey was salvaged (the forgotten round of chocolate milk replaced with a stop at In ‘n’ Out Burger for sodas and fries on the way home) but the mission was far from accomplished. The little handbook was definitely missed; the chapters on what paleontologists do, how dinosaurs get their names and a mock fossil hunter’s notebook convey a fair amount of useful information in 64 small pages.

It was getting late and I had kids to deliver, so I saved the “kit” part for later in the week, when my son would have time to dig up his own apatosaurus.

The kit, in fact, is a “replica of an apatosaurus skeleton buried in hard, slate-like layers and covered with clay-like rock similar to the soft rocks where real fossils are found.” It comes with a “wooden spatula” (actually a Popsicle stick) to scrape away the rock (actually hard clay); you’ll also need water, paper towels, a toothbrush and the like. The last chapter in the guidebook contained the detailed instructions we needed to get us through our “dig,” which turned out remarkably well considering that I’m all thumbs and tend to break models into many pieces. The instructions include space for drawing and writing about the work by the young dino hunter, including tips for adult “lab assistants.”

Like the real thing, our fossil dig was agreeably messy and lots of fun. It kept us occupied for some hours spread out over a few days--digging the fossil, baking it dry in the oven, gluing the pieces together, painting it and so on, all the while keeping a log in the back of the handbook. And we have a nice-sized ball of clay hardening on the patio for a bonus.

* “Be Your Own Map Expert” by Barbara Taylor (Sterling Publishing: $12.95) would have been useful on our wilderness venture and is an excellent activity book in its own right. Pretty near everything about maps and map-making is covered with superb graphics and well-written information. The activities range from designing map symbols to creating a treasure hunt game. My schoolmarm wife took one look and in short order made plans for a week’s worth of lessons for next semester.