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Dinosaur, Colorado's bizarre, long-snouted Triceratops. Photo by author.

Last week I asked you submit your favorite atrocious roadside dinosaurs. While the sculptures along the main drag of Dinosaur, Colorado come close to the top of the list, my vote last week went to the ugly, ugly dinosaurs outside Stewart’s Petrified Wood near Arizona’s Petrified Forest National Park. Readers sent in a few additional contenders for the title.

Photo by Mark Ryan.

Reader Mark Ryan sent in this sad, decaying dinosaur that stands near Interstate 15 in the vicinity of Victorville, California. No wonder the dinosaur needs those metal rods to support itself—its legs look like they’re made of cooked noodles.

Cowboys and dinosaurs, spotted in Natural Bridge, Virginia. Photo courtesy Kathy Krein.

A regular favorite of Dinosaur Tracking readers is the truly strange Dinosaur Kingdom in Natural Bridge, Virginia. Suggested as a top choice for weird dinosaurs by reader Laura Wilson, this tourist trap features a peculiar southern mash-up of dinosaurs and the Civil War—Union Soldiers are chomped on and terrorized by Mesozoic monstrosities. This particular shot, sent in last year by Kathy Krein, features a rather surprised looking cowboy who looks as if he’s only just begun to realize that riding a deinonychosaur was a horrible decision.

Photo by Kelly Enright.

Reader Kelly Enright sent in a set of several dinosaurian abominations from around the country. This one, complete with glowing eyes, stands guard over Goony Golf in New York.

Photo by Kelly Enright.

While not actually a dinosaur, this boxy mosasaur outside Big Mike’s Rocks & Gifts in Kentucky deserves an honorable mention, especially since the poor thing is stranded hundreds of miles from the nearest ocean.

Photo by Kelly Enright.

While not the absolute worst dinosaur I have ever seen, this Tyrannosaurus at the entrance to Kentucky’s Dinosaur World is one of the creepiest. So if the head is up there, and the legs are on either side, what part of the dinosaur am I walking into, exactly?

Photo by Kelly Enright.

We may have a new winner! While this automotive Triceratops—I think?—from Hanksville, Utah does win some bonus points for recycling, my first thought when I opened the image was “Oh geez! Kill it with fire!” This dinosaur is a junkyard nightmare, and surely a top contender for the worst roadside dinosaur ever.

There’s no shortage of dinosaur encyclopedias. From technical volumes to children’s picture books, dinosaur catalogs have proliferated in both dead-tree and e-book formats. Among the slew of titles, though, the newly-released Inside the World of Dinosaurs for the iPad looks to be one of the prettiest offerings.

The major hook for the new app is a wealth of computer-animated dinosaurs. A total of 60 prehistoric creatures—mostly dinosaurs with a few non-dinosaurian Mesozoic favorites among the lot—are put through their paces in animated walk cycles and re-enacted battles. Aside from common paleo quibbles—the Deinonychus have “bunny hands” and their feathers are not well realized—the artwork seems to be on par with any dinosaur documentary you’re likely to see on television today. And you can browse through this prehistoric menagerie in different ways, including a timeline which places dinosaurs in their chronological order (a nice feature since the “Age of Dinosaurs” is too often viewed as block of time where Triassic, Jurassic and Cretaceous periods are smashed together.) A bonus is narration by Stephen Fry, the British actor who recently narrated March of the Dinosaurs.

Sadly, though, the app is only available to those with an iPad. I don’t think I could justify the purchase another piece of expensive hardware just to play with dinosaurs. If you have tried out this app, though, let us know what you think in the comments.

A parent Massospondylus attends to its hatchlings. Art by Julius Csotonyi.

Two years ago, paleontologist Robert Reisz and colleagues revealed that the Early Jurassic dinosaur Massospondylus started off life as an awkward little thing. An exceptional set of eggs recovered from South Africa in 1976 contained the well-preserved skeletons of these baby dinosaurs, and the infants did not look very much like their parents. A roughly 20-foot-long adult Massospondylus had an extended neck and a long, low skull and it walked on two legs. But a baby of the same dinosaur had a short neck, a big head for its body, and it walked on all fours. The change between baby and adult was fantastic, and now, in a new PNAS paper, Reisz and colleagues provide an even more detailed look at how Massospondylus started life.

In 2006, Reisz and collaborators located the site where the Massospondylus eggs had been discovered in South Africa’s Golden Gate Highlands National Park. They found more eggs and baby dinosaurs, but not just that. About 190 million years ago, this place was a nesting ground that multiple Massospondylus used from one season to the next.

The paleontologists have discovered bones, eggshell fragments and ten egg clutches—the largest has 34 eggs—within a six-and-a-half-foot swath of siltstone. These nest sites were not all found in the same level, demonstrating that this particular place was used multiple times by Massospondylus moms. Despite the fact that this place was a nesting ground, however, there does not appear to be any evidence that the parent dinosaurs made special accommodations for the eggs—no clear sign of bowl-shaped depressions or other hints of nest construction were found.

Exactly how much parental care adult Massospondylus offered their babies is unknown. Crocodylians and many birds—the closest living relatives of dinosaurs—often attend their nests from the time the eggs are laid and guard their offspring for at least a short interval after their babies hatch. Massospondylus may have done the same, and small tracks found in siltstone blocks indicate that hatchling dinosaurs remained in the nesting site after emerging from their eggs. The tiny hind- and fore-foot tracks are about twice the size of what would be expected for a newly-hatched Massospondylus, and so it seems that the babies stayed at the site until they doubled in size, at least.

The setting of the nesting site allowed all these intricate details to be preserved. In the time of Massospondylus, the site was a relatively dry habitat near the margin of a prehistoric lake. Relatively gentle flooding events covered up the nest site with fine-grained sediment, and afterwards the area dried out. This was a regular, seasonal cycle, and the bad timing of some expectant dinosaur parents resulted in the good fortune of the paleontologists.

With this new data point, Reisz, Evans, and co-authors looked at the big picture of dinosaur reproduction to see which traits might be widely shared and which might be specializations. It seems that communal nesting sites that were used over and over again was an old, common aspect of dinosaur behavior. And, regarding sauropodomorphs specifically, the Massospondylus site may provide some insight into the evolution of different reproductive behavior among its larger sauropod cousins. Evidence from some sauropod nesting sites has been taken to suggest that exceptionally large long-necked dinosaurs did little more than lay eggs and leave their offspring to fend for themselves. What the Massospondylus site might indicate is that the “lay ‘em and leave ‘em” strategy was not the ancestral state for these dinosaurs, but instead was a reproductive specialization related to increasing body size.

So far, this is the oldest known dinosaur group nesting site. Similar sites created by hadrosaurs and sauropods are about 100 million years younger—a vast expanse of time. Potentially earlier nest site finds have not been well studied. One such Late Triassic site in Argentina has yielded multiple infant and juvenile specimens of the sauropodomorph Mussaurus. I asked David Evans, a paleontologist at the Royal Ontario Museum and one of the co-authors of the new study, about the possibility that the Mussaurus locality is an even older nesting ground. “[E]vidence of any form of extensive nesting site [at the Mussaurus localities] is very scant,” he said, but noted that “given our luck in South Africa, I would not at all be surprised if there are a bunch of nests similar to what we have [found] at the Mussaurus localities too—someone just needs to look and document.”

References:

Pol, D., & Powell, J. (2007). Skull anatomy of Mussaurus patagonicus (Dinosauria: Sauropodomorpha) from the Late Triassic of Patagonia Historical Biology, 19 (1), 125-144 DOI: 10.1080/08912960601140085

Reisz, R., Evans, D., Roberts, E., Sues, H., & Yates, A. (2012). Oldest known dinosaurian nesting site and reproductive biology of the Early Jurassic sauropodomorph Massospondylus Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences DOI: 10.1073/pnas.1109385109

The reconstructed shoulder and arm of Majungasaurus. From Burch and Carrano, 2012.

A few months ago, I wrote about a big, carnivorous dinosaur with what may have been the wimpiest arms of all time. No, not Tyrannosaurus, but a very distantly related predatory dinosaur from Cretaceous South America called Carnotaurus. Despite this dinosaur’s massive, beefy shoulderblade, the arm of Carnotaurus was little more than a nub that would have barely stuck out from the body. And, according to a recent fossil find from Madagascar, Carnotaurus wasn’t alone in having ridiculously tiny forelimbs.

Carnotaurus belonged to a group of theropods called abelisaurids. Among them were large predators that spread through the southern portion of the Cretaceous world, including Majungasaurus from Madagascar. (This dinosaur got a brief publicity boost thanks to the first episode of the sensationalistic show Jurassic Fight Club.) This was another hefty carnivore with bizarre head ornamentation. As demonstrated in a new Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology paper by researchers Sara Burch and Matthew Carrano, Majungasaurus also had truly vestigial arms.

Tiny arms are a common abelisaurid feature. Majungasaurus was expected to share this feature with other closely related dinosaurs, but a lack of fossil evidence prevented paleontologists from seeing what the forelimb of this animal really looked like. That changed in 2005, when paleontologists discovered a nearly complete and mostly articulated skeleton of Majungasaurus, including elements from the entire forelimb and shoulder girdle. (Among the lot was a furcula, or the equivalent of a wishbone, which is the first time this bone has been found in an abelisaurid.)

When viewed together, the forelimbs of this animal look like an evolutionary joke. A large humerus connects to a broad shoulder girdle, but the lower part of the arm—from the radius and ulna down to the dinosaur’s four fingers—is composed of short, stout bones that altogether make up less than a third of the length of the upper arm bone. And the fingers were short, stubby, and lacked sharp claws.

But what may be even stranger is that the arms of Majungasaurus were probably capable of a relatively wide range of motion. The connection between the humerus and the shoulder girdle was more flexible than in many other theropod dinosaurs, and Burch and Carrano suggest that the wrist of Majungasaurus, too, could probably be extended quite far. Conversely, though, the paleontologists note that the fingers were probably relatively stiff and the dinosaur lacked the ability to move them very much, so perhaps the dinosaur used its hand as a single unit—like a dinosaurian mitten. That’s assuming that Majungasaurus was doing anything with its arms at all. This dinosaur’s arms and hands had become so reduced that it is difficult to imagine what they could have possibly done with them other than impotently flap them around. We may never know for sure.

References:

Burch, S., & Carrano, M. (2012). An articulated pectoral girdle and forelimb of the abelisaurid theropod Majungasaurus crenatissimus from the Late Cretaceous of Madagascar Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology, 32 (1), 1-16 DOI: 10.1080/02724634.2012.622027

A clutch of sauropod eggs at the geothermal nesting site in Argentina. Eggs are outlined by black dashes. From Fiorelli et al., in press.

Imagine a dinosaur as massive as Apatosaurus sitting on a nest. It doesn’t really work, does it? We know without a doubt that these large sauropod dinosaurs laid eggs, but there is no conceivable way that the gargantuan dinosaurs could have sat on their grapefruit-sized eggs without crushing them all. There must have been some other way that the eggs could have been kept safe and warm enough to develop properly. One special site in Argentina suggests that some sauropods had a geological solution to the problem.

Two years ago, paleontologists Lucas Fiorelli and Gerald Grellet-Tinner announced the discovery of a unique nesting site that sauropods returned to multiple times. During a stretch between 134 million and 110 million years ago, expectant mother sauropods came to this site to deposit clutches of up to 35 eggs within a few feet of geysers, vents and other geothermal features. This basin held naturally heated dinosaur nurseries.

A new, in-press paper about the site by Fiorelli, Grellet-Tinner and colleagues Pablo Alasino and Eloisa Argañaraz reports additional details of this site. To date, more than 70 clutches of eggs have been found across an area spanning more than 3,200,00 square feet in a section of rock about four feet thick. Rather than focusing on the habits of the dinosaurs, however, the new study fills out the geological context of the place as a possible explanation for why the dinosaurs came here.

On the basis of geological features and minerals, the authors suggest that the site may have resembled the Norris Geyser Basin of present-day Yellowstone National Park. A series of underground pipes and tubes fed geysers, hot springs and mud pots scattered across an ancient terrain crossed by rivers. The fact that the egg clutches are consistently found near the heat-releasing features is taken by Fiorelli and co-authors as an indication that parent dinosaurs were seeking out these spots to lay their eggs. And this site isn’t the only one. Fiorelli and collaborators also point out that similar sauropod egg sites have been found in South Korea.

Exactly what happened to preserve so many nests is not immediately clear, but the eggs were buried in sediments at least partly produced by the surrounding geothermal features. The eggs were eroded and thinned by the acidic nature of the entombing sediment. Some eggs were destroyed by these and other processes, but others held out and became preserved in place.

Not all sauropod dinosaurs selected such sites for nests. Particular populations near geothermal features may have received a benefit from the natural heat, but how did other populations and species far removed from these hot spots lay and protect their nests? We still have much to learn about how baby sauropods came into the world.

References:

Fiorelli, L., Grellet-Tinner, G., Alasino, P., & Argañaraz, E. (2011). The geology and palaeoecology of the newly discovered Cretaceous neosauropod hydrothermal nesting site in Sanagasta (Los Llanos Formation), La Rioja, northwest Argentina Cretaceous Research DOI: 10.1016/j.cretres.2011.12.002