FIELD TRIP: Cliff, the Colossal Fossil (Boston, MA)
- J. Karson Key
- Oct 16, 2015
- 6 min read
Colossal Fossil: Triceratops Cliff
There are two distinct camps in one’s adolescence: those that root for the
Tyrannosaurus and those that cheer on Triceratops. Consider me firmly in the latter. I always rooted for the “good guy” and, to me, Triceratops was always the hero, the face, the protagonist in that equation—he was the Cretaceous John Wayne. Whether it’s the natural world or in one of the many realms of popular entertainment, I would challenge anyone to find a more heated and debated rivalry than the legendary grudge between Triceratops andTyrannosaurus. Kirk and Khan, you say? Didn’t last millions of years—though, with the modern trend of repurposing classics, it could. Batman and Joker? Don’t think it took a global mass extinction to end that feud. Coke and Pepsi? Max Headroom even knows that doesn’t compare. Celebrated paleontologist Bob Bakker once detailed the rivalry stating that “no matchup between predator and prey has ever been more dramatic. It’s somehow fitting that those two massive antagonists lived out their co-evolutionary belligerence through the very last days of the very last epoch of the Age of the Dinosaurs.” However, since Charles Knight painted the two behemoths’ struggle straight into the minds of humans everywhere with his 1942 mural at the Field Museum, commissioned on behalf of the National Geographic Society, it has been one-sided in the eyes of pop culture. T.Rex wins in almost every reimagined battle. It always gets top billing. Very rarely will you see a film’s heroine being chased by a rampaging Triceratops. Even 65 million years after the last actual skirmish between these two Cretaceous gladiators, the carnivorous theropod wins the “battle of the bones”. Chicago’s Field Museum sports, arguably, the most famous fossil in the world today—you guessed it—a Tyrannosaurus. Though “Sue” is a sight to behold, and deserves her paleontological celebrity status, and recently Emmy-winning documentary, she is not unchallenged in the title of most impressive Cretaceous skeleton. In fact, if it was purely based on the sheer prehistoric aura that exudes from the remains, the Boston Museum of Science’s “Cliff” is much closer to being that Mesozoic time machine that simultaneously ignites the imagination and scientific curiosity of all that set foot in its expansive shadow.
When compared to the more popular Sue, Cliff’s home is not quite as dramatic and breathtaking. Being tucked away on the Lower Level of the Blue Wing does not have the same effect as a spotlight position at the end of a sprawling lobby landscape at the Field Museum. However, where Sue is polished and primed for her life on a museum pedestal, Cliff is a fossil for the people. He is as gritty as he is gargantuan—in a word, real. He feels Mesozoic. He feels otherworldly and alien—because he feels realistic. The texture, the coloring, the imperfections, the animated position—they possess nothing that could be perceived as augmented or “touched up”; they only suggest life. Where Sue impresses, Cliff resonates. Much like the great Douglas Adams’ notion of the “total perspective vortex”, Cliff makes you feel like a small, insignificant speck in the evolutionary timeline of life; it’s haunting, emotional, and mesmerizing. The curators and display designers undoubtedly had this in mind when brainstorming the home of the nine-feet tall, 2,000-pound (the head weighs nearly 800 pounds alone!) fossilized installation; Cliff is intentionally placed next to a modeled mount of a—wait for it—Triceratops. Both are beautiful presentations when viewed in a vacuum but when next to each other, Cliff reigns supreme. It’s a subtle battle cry of “beat this” ringing out to other museums across the world; one that not many can challenge. Around the overwhelming 23-feet long Ceratopsian, visitors can engage with interactive kiosks and stations that detail the differences between Cliff and his slightly more artificial counterpart—and, fittingly, a deeper dive into a head-to-head comparison of Cliff and his arch-nemesis, Tyrannosaurus.
So who is Cliff? The famous three-horned behemoth’s journey to Boston hasn’t been short on twists and turns and paleo-financial (trademark pending) intrigue. First and foremost, Cliff was born, grew to around 12,000 pounds, did some stuff, and died. All of this happened approximately 65-66 million years before some professional fossil hunter dug up his ridiculously well-preserved remains in a section of the Hell Creek Formation in North Dakota. This 2004 discovery’s remains were so in tact, all that was missing from a complete specimen were some lost feet, some rib and leg bones, and pieces of the vertebrae. Upon excavation, the as yet unnamed beast was transported to Italy to be mounted; and when this was complete, he made his grand debut on the auction house floor of Christie’s in Paris. It was the first dinosaur of this quality to be auctioned off since 1997—when a nearly complete Tyrannosaurus named Sue was purchased by Chicago’s Field Museum (with an assist from McDonald’s and Disney) for a staggering $7.6 million. The buzz around the auction led most observers to believe that a deep-pocketed museum in the Middle East would walk away with the Cretaceous beauty, however, things unfolded in an entirely different manner. An anonymous bidder from New England won the rights to the Triceratops for—what can only be described as a steal—$942,797. He then bestowed upon his hometown museum, the Boston Museum of Science, this awesome monster of the Mesozoic for a seven-year loan. The only catch—he must be christened “Cliff” after the donor’s grandfather. Fair enough. Cliff debuted to an admiring public in 2008.
Cliff made headlines again in early 2015 when the seven-year loan was close to expiring. The donor decided that he would sell Cliff to the museum under market price (estimated to be around $1.2 million). All he needed was $850,000—the remainder would be considered a gift. An aggressive “Save Cliff” campaign was put into motion and, needless to say since I am writing this article about a visit in 2015, Boston became Cliff’s permanent home.
Before you leave Boston’s “most visited cultural attraction”, Cliff’s sister exhibit—"Modeling the Mesozoic"—is worth a quick peek. Though nowhere near as large and immersive as the Field’s "Evolving Planet", there are a few stellar items that excite any dino-lover. Some of the more noted highlights include a life-size Tyrannosaurus model (when I went, he was sporting a bow tie) that can be viewed from two levels. What is fascinating is that the original life-size Tyrannosaurus model from the 1960s still sits outside the museum—and the advancements in paleobiology could not be more apparent than when comparing these two massive depictions of the “Tyrant Lizard King”. The modern portrayal is an agile apex predator; his ancestor is a hulking, tail-dragging brute of early monster matinees. Tyrannosaurus is also compared—from a cranium perspective—to the lesser-known Giganotosaurus by way of two modeled skulls. Giganotosaurus never made its way into public imagination outside of a few video game cameos and being part of the genetic make-up of Jurassic World’s infamous hybrid, Indominus Rex; but the “Big Gig” does have the title of the first land predator deemed larger than Tyrannosaurus. Ultimately, two North African carnivores—the semi-aquatic Spinosaurus and it’s contemporary, Carcharodontosaurus—subsequently replaced Giganotosaurus. All in all, the museum has a bit of everything and is worth a day of exploring.
When I think back to my visit with Cliff, it’s sobering to think that I was able to stand next to such an accurate realization of a Triceratops. I have reflected back on the moment many times and why Triceratops captured my imagination in a manner that
Tyrannosaurus, or Brachiosaurus, or Deinonychus, or Stegosaurus did not. I just don’t know what it was (or “is”) about Dr. Alan Grant’s favorite dinosaur that made it stand out above the rest—but it did. Maybe it was because ol’ “Three-Horned Face” was the good guy in that epic battle of decent versus wicked. Or maybe it was because it’s so damn cool looking. Regardless, I know that Cliff would have held his own against Sue 65 million years ago on a hot expanse of delta in Cretaceous North Dakota—and he continues to hold his own in the hallowed halls of science’s most famous institutions.
The Super Official “Of A Mesozoic Mind” Rating (out of a possible 5 Public Domain Triceratops Heads)
Throughout the series, Of a Mesozoic Mind will partake in field trips to various dinosaur-related events and locales. As you can imagine, these educational treks will be more focused on Dinosauria and less on pop-culture—but, regardless, they will be super rad!
Boston Museum of Science is located a 1 Science Park in Boston, MA. Details on how and when to visit can be found at www.mos.org.
コメント