A Case Study in Sensemaking:
A Thesis submitted to the faculty of graduate studies at the University of Calgary
Note: This document has been reformatted from its original format,
Introduction
A journey begins, as the ancient Chinese proverb instructs, with a single step. But what constitutes that first step? Is it the initial step out the door on the day of the actual journey? Is it that moment when one decides to engage upon the journey? Is it some prior event which triggers an interest in the object of the journey? Or is it when one becomes aware of a compelling need for movement be it physical, intellectual, or spiritual? Similar questions can be asked about the journey's end. Is the journey over when one arrives home? Does it end when one runs out of stories to tell? Or is it when one is compelled to embark upon some new adventure? Whatever moments are chosen for start and end, the journey is always nested in the middle of a bigger journey--a thead in some broader tapestry. And so it is with this case study. At first, it made sense to me that the Rocky Mountain pre-conference field trip in and of itself constituted my case study, but, as I lived through the experience of my research, I came to realize that the boundaries of this case study were not nearly as definite nor as clear as I had imagined at the onset. This field trip was not an isolated event but rather a part of the flow of the larger context of lived experience of the participants and the communities to which they belong. While the basis of this case study is a particular geological field trip, my research permeates beyond to include my anticipation and preparation prior to the field trip as well as the impact of the field trip on my thinking once I returned home. This chapter is a description of events leading up to and including the actual six-day field trip. The purpose of this chapter is to provide the reader with a detailed account of the exterior-collective aspects of the events which occurred during the case study as well as a look at some of the interior-individual and interior-collective aspects. Subsequent chapters will provide a more in-depth investigation of the interior experiences of the field trip participants and of the researcher as observer participant. The data presented here was collected via several approaches. The primary approach consisted of jotting down notes during each day of the field trip and converting these jotted notes to prose text each night before retiring. (Unless otherwise indicated, italicized comments are direct quotes from my prose field notes.) This note taking approach was supplemented with two tape recorded interviews in which I was the interviewee. The first was a self interview in which I asked myself questions as I was returning home from the field trip. In the second my wife interviewed me as we looked through a photo album compiled of 65 pictures I had taken during the course of the field trip. Material for this chapter also includes information collected from four open-ended, tape recorded interviews conducted with participants during the field trip. In total these interviews included ten of the fifteen field trip participants. This chapter also includes information from five post field trip interviews and e-mail correspondence with eleven of the participants; however, the majority of this post trip material will be discussed in the next chapter. Although I have chosen events that seem most directly related in time and content to my investigation of sensemaking, it is important to understand that the events selected have been pulled from a larger context of my doctoral studies which in turn has been taken from my life-long, lived experience as a learner. Each of these larger contexts, while not explicitly discussed, has, to one degree or another, influenced this case study. Looking backward it might appear as if my research project was well thought out in advance. However, that was not the case. It was much more serendipitous than well thought out--I was at the right place at the right time; I was receptive to possibilities. In January 1997, I met with Bryant Griffith, Assistant Dean of the Graduate Division of Educational Research at the University of Calgary to discuss my intention to pursue a doctoral degree with a focus on the social construction of knowledge. At the time, I had no idea what my research would look like nor that this meeting would be the catalyst for shaping the direction of my research. A month or so later as I was walking to class, I met Bryant in the hallway. He briefly spoke to me about doing research with the Yoho-Burgess Shale Foundation. As I had never heard of the Burgess Shale, I thought he had confused me with someone else, but he assured me he had not. Later that week when we talked more formally in his office, Bryant indicated that working with a group of scientists at the Burgess Shale might be a great opportunity to study their process of sensemaking. He gave me a name and number to call, and I was on my way. As it turns out, throughout the summer the Yoho-Burgess Shale Foundation conducts regular tours to the Burgess Shale quarries and the Mount Stephen fossil beds. While most of these tours are open to the general public, this particular summer a group of paleontologists attending a six day pre-conference field trip of the Rocky Mountains had booked a private tour to both sites as part of their trip. I wasn't at all clear how joining this group would serve the purpose of my research, but I pursued it anyway imagining that it would all make sense as it unfolded. Thus, after making a few phone calls and meeting with Carl, one of the trip organizers, I gained permission to be a participant for the entire six day field trip. I acquired ethics approval for the project from the University of Calgary ethics committee, and, in keeping with their guidelines, the names of all participants and other individuals encountered during the field trip have been changed to preserve individual identities. On August 14th, the evening before embarking on the field trip, I, the rookie ethnographer, traveled from Calgary to Edmonton to begin my research.
14 August 1997: The Night Before It was late afternoon when I arrived in Edmonton and took a room in a hotel near the university. As I started organizing the equipment for the field trip--tape recorders, microphones, blank tapes, and hiking gear--I realized that I was feeling quite anxious about entering into this research project with a group of people whom I hadn't met and knew next to nothing about except that they had an interest in participating in this pre-conference field trip. Also, since I had never done an ethnographic style study, I wasn't sure I actually knew how to take fieldnotes. Even though I had read Roger Sanjek's Fieldnotes: The Makings of Anthropology and various pieces by Stake, Wilson, and Wolcott, it was unclear to me what I was really supposed to do. How would I know what was important? What was I to record? When should I take written notes; when should I use the tape recorder? Would I be able to get all the information I needed? Overwhelmed by these and other questions that raced through my mind, I went for a bite to eat at a nearby restaurant. As I walked back to the hotel, I came to realize that "I only needed to focus on tomorrow not the entire trip. What a relief." All I had to do was to take one day at a time and to "notice what I notice." Also, from my studies in applied behavioral sciences, I remembered that behaviors exist typically as reoccurring patterns, thus, if I missed something important, not to worry because it was likely to happen again. With these thoughts in mind, I ended the day with the following journal entry: I must have courage--I must take initiative by striking up conversations; I must stay open--eyes, ears, mind, and heart--to all that is happening and trust that that which is important will be recalled. I must use and experiment with my notetaking skills--after all this is research. Finally I must be bold--in getting out my notepad and recording notes, and in taking out the tape recorder and recording conversations. P.S. Trust that you already know what you need to know to do the research project effectively.
15 August 1997: Entering the Rockies Dressed in jeans, t-shirt, running shoes, and pile jacket, I was indistinguishable from any of the others who gathered together for this field trip. We met in a classroom at the University of Alberta, sixteen of us in all. The company included six university professors, two individuals associated with American museums, two amateur paleontologists, two post-doctoral fellows, three graduate students, and one undergraduate student. The two field trip organizers, Carl and Paul, both professors from western Canadian universities, briefed us on the trip itinerary, after which I discussed my research project with the group and distributed copies of the Letter to Participants (Appendix B) and the Declaration of Informed Consent (Appendix C) to each of them. All participants signed the declaration and proved to be willing participants throughout the trip. Shortly thereafter we made our way through the rain, which was to remain with us throughout the day, and piled into the two vans which were to be our means of transportation for the next six days. One van driven by Tolsoe, a doctoral student studying "baby trilobites" under the supervision of Carl, carried four passengers and all our luggage. The other van driven by Carl carried the remaining twelve passengers (see Appendix D for seating arrangements of passengers throughout the trip). As we drove from Edmonton to Jasper, I talked extensively with Jerry, a sixty-four year old retired chemist from the eastern United States and active amateur paleontologist with an interest in the preservation of fossils. He knew about half of the people in the group prior to this trip. Our conversation was wide ranging: Jerry commented that Stephen J. Gould in Wonderful Life presented a rather biased view. One that may have gotten paleontologists motivated to prove him wrong. Some of whom apparently already have in rebuttal papers. When asked about different schools of thought within the field of paleontology he deferred to Carl and Paul, but as far as he knew there were "no big problems." He commented that the only way to learn paleontology was by being out in the field. In discussing distant and vast amounts of time, Jerry offered that he understands time mathematically, i.e. one million years is related to so many "storms of the century." During our morning stop for gas and coffee, I sat with Janet, a geology professor at an American university in the western United States and the only woman on the trip, and Andy, a curator of invertebrate paleontology at a mid-western American museum who would be taking up a professorship at a university in California in the fall. Janet and Andy had recently been on another field trip together. Carl joined us. The three of them related stories about their international travel adventures and about other paleontologists they all knew. Of particular interest were Andy's stories about Soviet paleontologists: In one instance Andy and his wife were attending an end-of-expedition celebration in which his wife was taking photos that evidently included Soviet paleontologists. Later, an American working for the US Geological Survey requested copies of her photos in order to verify the identity of particular Soviet paleontologists. In another story Andy commented about being on a field trip with some Soviet paleontologists who were in the possession of rock hammers which they appeared to not know how to use. Andy's insinuation was that the Soviets were more spies than paleontologists. Upon arriving in Jasper (370 kms west of Edmonton), we stopped to eat lunch, to buy food for the next few days' lunches, and to browse the tourist shops. Hans, a German professor whose specialty is trilobites of northern Africa, and I stopped at the Jasper National Park Information Centre where he purchased a field guide to plants of the Canadian Rockies. He told me that those individuals on the trip who knew him would expect him to answer their questions regarding the local flora as botany was one of his more serious hobbies. After lunch we drove 163 kms south from Jasper to Saskatchewan River Crossing and then another 44 kms northeast to the David Thompson Resort. While low hanging clouds and rain obscured most of the scenic views of the mountains, we occasionally got a break in the weather and a chance to get out of the vans to "look at some geology" as Carl would say. Our two leaders would relate the geology and paleontology at each of these sites, one filling in what the other didn't know. Usually Carl would start the conversation by discussing what he knew of the site and then defer to Paul, who would talk in more technical terms about what he knew. On more than one occasion, one would ask the other, "What do you know about that?" When describing the geology both men would frequently end their comments with a phrase to the effect of ". . . as far as we know." At Tangle Mountain, Paul commented on the name changes of various geological formations from "meaningless American names" to more local Canadian names. While Tolsoe, Kildong, and Patrick were observed taking notes at various times during these stops, there was always a great deal of picture taking. Everyone had a camera; Phelim, a professor of geology and paleontology from a university in China, had the group's only video camera. In the mid-1980's, Phelim spent two years working with Hans in Germany. In the intervening years they met once in Siberia and now in Canada. In between stops, Phelim, Mongryong, and Kildong referred to various geological maps, while several people, most notably Kildong, Mongryong, and Levi, referred to the 80 page Excursion Guidebook prepared by Carl and Sam, a third year geology student hired to work as Carl's assistant for the summer. Sam, who at the age of nineteen was the youngest member of our group by more than a decade, was also responsible for arranging our overnight accommodations. Despite Sam's youth and inexperience as a geologist, when Carl was asked about the age of a rock slide we passed, he referred the question to Sam who had recently stopped at the site on another field trip with a group from one of his university courses. Our longest stop of the day was at the Columbia Icefields. On our way back to the vans from the foot of the glacier, Paul showed me an interesting limestone rock with brown striations. He told me he had collected specimens of this rock, taken them home and contemplated them for some time. It seems no one really knew how they were formed. A fellow researcher wrote a paper proposing how they might have formed. But Paul knew right away that this proposal was wrong, even though he didn't have an alternative explanation. While riding in the van or standing along the highway listening to Carl and Paul describe the local geology or walking along the trail, I found it more effective to jot down notes than to tape record what was being said. For this purpose I used a 3 inch by 5 inch notebook of unlined pages. This style of notebook facilitated my mind mapping technique of notetaking in which a theme word placed in the middle of the page served as a hub for other key ideas connected to the theme. Initially I had placed an individual's name in the middle of the page thinking that this would be the best way to keep track of information connected to any particular person. However, before day's end I realized that this strategy was quite unworkable. I shifted to placing a title of an activity ,"van", "lunch" or "quarry" in the middle of the page instead of a person's name. This worked much better. I was pleasantly surprised at how much data I was able to collect with so little writing. Using this short-hand method of taking notes in a cold and wet outdoor environment proved to be highly effective. Socially, it was a very unobtrusive way to record what people were doing and saying. Just prior to retiring each night, I used the mind map jottings to refresh my memory of the day's events and to write out my fieldnotes. We arrived at the David Thompson Inn late in the afternoon. There, as for most of the trip, we shared accommodations (see Appendix E for list of accommodation roommates). The major exception to this was Levi, an amateur paleontologist with a sleep disorder, who choose to room by himself. Before going for supper, all but Kildong, Tolsoe, Mongryong, and Levi joined Carl and Paul in their room for a glass of wine and conversation. Our two leaders discussed at length their favorite whiskies--Carl described the best of Irish whiskies, while Paul praised the attributes of Scotch whisky. They also discussed their ability to identify English accents, and told numerous stories about field trip adventures and the antics of various paleontologists. One such story about a paleontologist who took a faculty position at one university while on sabbatical from another university, thus drawing double salary, led to comments about knowledge claims based on little data: One comment in particular concerned a geological map of some part of China which Carl suggested was more fiction than reality. Paul suggested that this fictionalizing of reality may be true historically as well as currently and that researchers tend to "go on intuition" when lacking adequate data. He also suggested that historically paleontologists were "more boldly interpretive" than today. When the wine ran out, we went to dinner where the stories continued to flow. We returned to our rooms around 10 pm. It had been a full day. As I rewrote my fieldnotes, I realized that I had already learned a great deal about the group with which I was traveling. I was feeling much more confident and looking forward to the remainder of the trip. I concluded my notes with the following comment: I feel totally included in the group. Everyone I've struck up a conversation with has been quite open and willing to answer my questions.
16 August 1997: Mount Stephen Fossil Beds The next morning I ate breakfast with my roommate Martin, a Welshman doing post-doctoral work in Australia. Paul joined us. We talked mostly about the pressures of publishing scientific papers. Martin informed us that the Australian university where he was doing post doctoral work has a point system for professors publishing work in professional journals. Each professor earns points by publishing in international journals. The more prestigious the journal, the more points awarded. Martin suggested that this process discourages the development of Australian journals in that they are excluded from the point system, i.e. no points are awarded for being published in Australian journals. After breakfast, we climbed into the vans and headed back to Saskatchewan River Crossing and southeast toward Lake Louise. For the second day in a row the weather is overcast and rainy. Low clouds drift around the base of the mountains giving them a mystical quality. Even though there is a certain beauty to the fresh snow on the crags of the upper slopes, the views are disappointing for those who have come from so far away to see the magnificence of the Canadian Rockies. Jokingly Paul points out formations hidden behind the clouds. On the drive I sat at the back of the van where I could see everything that was going on. There was much more talk today than yesterday. Janet sat up front with Carl who once again chatted away throughout the drive. Unfortunately, from my position in the back of the van, I couldn't hear the particulars of their discussion. However, Patrick, a graduate student working with Paul, told stories about the wild exploits, feuds, and unorthodox collecting adventures of early paleontologists such as Andrews, Cope, and Marsh. Patrick appears to be quite taken with Andrews. He told of Andrew's wild and unorthodox collecting adventures, and of Andrew's relationship with Marsh. The friendship between the two went awry and turned into an actual war -- shooting at each other, blowing up each other's collection sites and other such incidents. Sam joined in the conversation as did Henry, who coordinates after school programs for a large museum in the eastern United States. All three were quite engaged in adding bits and pieces to the story. From storytelling the conversation flowed into a discussion of the idea of historical perspective and how historic notions can't be judged by present day perspectives. Patrick faulted Stephen J. Gould in this regard for his criticism of Charles Walcott's interpretations of the fossils found at the Burgess Shale quarries. Sam, who had recently finished taking a philosophy of science course as part of his university studies in geology, spoke out against the idea of scientists knowing absolute truth. He and Henry both agreed with Patrick's comment that "there is always bias." Patrick went on to say that what we know today will in six years be as wrong as what we knew six years ago. The conversation ended with Patrick talking about being labeled "paleo boy" by geology classmates who had little time for fossils until, while on a field trip, they realized the importance of fossils in locating oil reserves. Patrick described it as a "change in attitude" regarding the need to know about fossils. He referred to his geologist classmates as being typically interested only in that which was profitable. Sam indicated having had similar experiences with geology classmates. Later, during a conversation about caving Jerry related a time when he had become quite claustrophobic while trying to squeeze through a thirty foot long tunnel. Paul told several stories about caving accidents and deaths including an incident in a cave known as the Rat's Nest, one of the few caves I have ventured into. Our itinerary for the day, in addition to numerous stops along the way to Lake Louise where we would spend the night, included visiting the Mount Stephen fossil beds 800 metres above the town of Field, B.C. and 145 kms from the David Thompson Inn. Before having us sign release-from-liability waivers, Peter, our guide for the day's trek as well as the next day's visit to the Burgess Shale, informed us that the hike we were about to take involved a very steep two hour climb, two to three times as steep as any in the Park--1700 feet of elevation gain over a distance of 3 kilometers. Not only was it steep but also quite slippery due to the rain. It was dangerous, and if we were not used to being in an exposed area, now was the time to decide not to continue. Once we started, we all had to stay together. If one person decided that they could not go any farther, then the entire group would have to stop there and return to the trailhead. At the end of his lecture about the difficulties of the climb, Peter asked, "Now does everyone have a clear picture of what it is like?" Of course everyone answered, "Yes." Afterwards, several of us laughed about the difference between what we imagined the climb to be like and what it actually turned out to be. Peter had also warned us to keep a look out for bears, but it was wasps that were the problem. About half way along the climb, we disturbed a ground wasp's nest, resulting in four of our group getting stung, the worst of whom was Levi who was stung on the bridge of his nose directly between his eyes causing significant swelling that lasted several days. Carl was stung on the hand and also suffered some swelling which bothered him for another day or so. The other two who were stung showed no symptoms. The next morning Carl approached Levi and compared stings and swellings. Carl's wrist was quite swollen and he was experiencing headaches. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to go on the next day's hike with us to the Burgess Shale. We arrived at the fossil beds without any further incidents. On a clear day the town of Field is visible from the beds as are the mountain slopes across the valley, but all we could see was the fog enclosing the slope we were standing on. No one complained; we were there to see fossils, and fossils were what we found. It was difficult to find a slab of shale that did not have a fossil of one sort or another embedded in it. Within minutes, with cameras and sandwiches in hand, the group dispersed in search of fossils. Not only is this site well known for its quantity of trilobite fossils, but also the quality of them, that is specimens of whole trilobites with clear presentation. As people found interesting specimens, they placed them on big rocks for others to see and photograph. Others who had been there before us had done the same as there were numerous "collections" scattered throughout the site. Both Peter and Carl were ready and willing throughout the afternoon to discuss any of the various specimens people found. All fossils occurring in any Canadian National Park are protected by law; thus, collecting is prohibited except by special permit. Consequently, photographing specimens replaced collecting. These guys have a very strong ethic. I would be surprised if anyone took even one fossil from there. I mean these are like the prize treasures and these guys are standing upon thousands of them and they're just hanging there and nothing will ever be done with them and they don't take them because, you don't take them. They have that kind of scientific integrity. The usual practice when taking pictures of fossils was to place a coin near them to give an indication of size. As the rest of the group took pictures of fossils, I took pictures of them in action. It was when photographing them taking photographs that I realized the value of photography as a recording device both for them as paleontologists and myself as an ethnographer. Consequently, my picture taking as a recording process became more strategic and less random. However, as the afternoon progressed, picture taking gave way to fossil hunting. Of all the fossils I found, I was most excited by a perfectly preserved Anomalocaris claw. Anomalocaris was the largest predator of the Cambrian shelf habitat. There is an interesting evolution-of-knowledge story behind this animal's claw. The claw, which is quite shrimp-like in size and form, was originally categorized as a species of its own. Only later, after much research and rethinking was it realized that this fossil was actually a part of a larger animal. In addition to taking pictures and searching for fossils, I had a long conversation with Levi. Being a full time business man he declares himself as strictly an amateur paleontologist. He started studying geology about five years ago and considers it "the most technical of all the sciences." Thus, he is always asking "dumb questions." After the field trip he would be presenting a paper at the trilobite conference. On our way down from the fossil beds, Levi and I talked at length with our guide Peter about the changing nature of the understanding of scientific knowledge claims: Peter cited plate tectonics theory, which was developed only 30 years or so ago and is now the basis of the geology courses he teaches, as a major shift in the thinking about and understanding of geology. Their conversation included criticism of Stephen J. Gould's "I'm right and you're wrong" attitude toward Charles Walcott which subsequently led to a discussion of the changing nature of knowledge in which Peter suggested that the general public views science as more truth-based than do the scientists themselves. In the end we all agreed that the acquisition of scientific knowledge was an evolutionary process. At the end of the hike we had a short question and answer period in which Paul made a very matter of fact comment to the effect that he was right and someone else was wrong. As he continued, Carl interrupted him several times suggesting an alternative point of view. I remember looking at Paul as Carl was challenging his ideas, and Paul getting a quizzical look on his face like, "Okay, I'm not going to argue here. Yes, yes, it's possible but let's go on." At this point Carl acknowledged that he was "playing the devil's advocate" and having a good time of it. Later, while Carl and Paul were occupied making arrangements for our next day's trek to the Burgess Shale, the rest of us visited the Burgess Shale Information Centre in Field. After purchasing a few post cards and bookmarks with pictures of fossils on them, I engaged in conversation with Patrick. It was after twelve years of navy life and a reading of Wonderful Life that Patrick realized he wanted to become a paleontologist. While this book was a major influence in his life, now as a graduate student who is well on his way to becoming a paleontologist, he was quite willing to point out its flaws. Later, Paul commented that Gould's book had a positive influence on many of his students. Patrick is unique among his fellow students in that most of them have entered paleontology via geology, whereas he arrived there via biology. Consequently, he approaches problems much differently than geology-based paleontologists. This difference is evident in his research in which he contends that certain organisms lived in mud which was low in O2. To demonstrate this possibility he extracted blood samples from a related living species and analyzed its ability to capture O2 under conditions similar to the fossil species. Patrick argued that a geology-based paleontologist would not have considered taking this kind of approach to investigating the problem. Patrick has been working for the last two years on a paleontological project in Newfoundland. While this project started out as a master's project, it may be advanced to Ph. D. status because of the amount of time and the quality of research involved. However, some faculty of his university are concerned that in doing this it would not provide Patrick with enough experience writing at a professional level. From Field we drove the 25 kms back to Lake Louise and checked in at the Youth Hostel. I roomed with Kildong, Mongryong, and Tolsoe. The four of us went out for supper together. Our conversation centered around the nature of each of our cultures. We talked about how Korean women have the opportunity to go to university, but as soon as they get married they are limited to being housewives. This is the case for Kildong's wife. Upon returning to our room, I took an opportunity to tape record an interview with them. As we sat on the floor with the tape recorder between us, I asked questions and they responded. During the interview I learned that Kildong, while not a trilobite specialist, was one of the only professors of paleontology in Korea who was currently studying trilobites. Because trilobite research in Korea is in its infancy, he ordered Tolsoe, who was one of his first masters students, to go to Canada to study under Carl who is a noted trilobite specialist. Mongryong is Kildong's first doctoral student and he is also sending him to Canada to do post-doctoral work with Paul. Part of the importance of this trip was for Mongryong to meet Paul. Kildong, who did his doctoral studies in the United States, firmly believes that it is best for his students to study where there are abundant intellectual as well as physical resources. One of the primary values of this field trip for all of them was to make connections with other trilobite people who they would otherwise never meet. Their presence was also seen as being of value to the North Americans for the same reasons, as Paul indicated later. The Koreans found that face to face conversations were much more valuable than the written information they generally are able to access. Their conversations were as much about getting to know each other as about research. Kildong mentioned that in the first two days of the trip he had talked with Hans about a topic currently under consideration by a paleontological organization to which they both belonged. He and Andy had discussed what each of them were doing in their research. The other primary reason for them participating in this field trip was to get a first hand look at the Rocky Mountains. While they were disappointed that the weather had reduced the visibility of the mountains, they were quite excited about seeing the trilobites. They do not have complete trilobite specimens in Korea like the ones they saw on Mount Stephen. Kildong had never seen fossils of such fantastic preservation in Korea. Kildong and Mongryong, who were not as familiar with English as Tolsoe, had difficulty understanding all the technical and area specific geological terminology used during our stops to "look at some geology." As a result, they spent considerable time reading the guidebook, which they wished had been better organized and with bigger pictures. They found it difficult to correlate the small and consequently indistinct pictures with what little they could see of the geology of the mountains. We ended our conversation with a discussion about the evolving nature of scientific information. All agreed that what is considered truth today may not be considered truth in the future. In Kildong's words, What is truth is based on the scientific information at the time. If the assumption is wrong, the solution should be wrong. But at the time, the assumption is seen as right; thus, the solution is considered acceptable at least at that time. With the interview complete and mid-night quickly approaching, I wrote out my fieldnotes concluding them with the following comment: I am getting data. I'm beginning to get a feel for what is important as data, i.e. I realize I'm missing important conversations that possibly contain data I could use. Fortunately, what goes around comes around. It will be there again tomorrow.
17 August 1997: The Burgess Shale This was the day everyone had been waiting for--the trek to the Burgess Shale quarries. Carl remarked that "at least half the people on the trip are here primarily to see this site." This was definitely the case for Martin, who said, "When I heard that the trip was scheduled to visit the Burgess Shale, I signed up immediately." Carl went on to say that the main reason we were going there was "because it is well exposed, there are really interesting fossils there, and a lot of people consider it to be the most famous fossil site in the world." Despite the importance attached to our destination, the group's excitement was masked by a calm reverence as we climbed into the van on yet another rainy day. We drove to Field where we met David,1 a director with the Yoho-Burgess Shale Foundation, and Peter, who once again served as our guide. From Field we drove to the trailhead near Takakkaw Falls. We arrived shortly after nine o'clock. As the clouds started to clear, views of the mountains emerged. The group's spirit lightened--cameras came out as rain gear was stuffed into backpacks. I noted for the second day in a row that Patrick was busy fixing sandwiches for himself and Paul, while Paul chatted away with others in the group. When I asked Patrick about this, he informed me that he did not mind fixing Paul's lunch. As Patrick explained it, Paul allowed him to go about his research undisturbed and saw to it that adequate funding, $ 20,000 to date, was available for his Newfoundland research project. Last minute preparations complete, the journey began. Whereas the hike to the Mount Stephen fossil beds had been steep, the hike to the Burgess Shale quarries was long, nine hours from start to finish with 18 kms of hiking, including 2500 feet of elevation gain and 3400 feet of elevation loss. No one complained. In addition to Peter, we were joined by three Burgess Shale research assistants who were returning from their time off work. Throughout the day's hike, I was busy eavesdropping on conversations and jotting down notes. The better part of the morning was spent listening to the flow of stories shared between Andy and Paul. They have known each other for approximately ten years. A good portion of their conversation involved inquiring about mutually known colleagues: Andy related an incident about a colleague who both he and Paul thought to be quite a competent paleontologist. In presenting a paper at a conference, their colleague began her presentation with some self-deprecating remarks about her own research, which for Andy "led to a loss of interest in her topic." Paul mused about the difficulties of pulling off such an approach. He mentioned one fellow he thought was quite good at it. They also discussed the research each had been involved with since they last met. Andy talked at length about his and his wife's transfer from the mid-west to the west coast of the United States. They also discussed the problems with university chair appointments and promotion systems, as well as attendance at Geological Society of America meetings. Andy indicated that his main reason for attending the GSA meetings was to network with other people working on projects similar to what he was working on. He also found it of value to attend these meeting when he was looking for new employment opportunities. Paul talked about a German geologist who came to work with him after having met at one of these meetings. They also discussed issues concerning writing and publishing academic papers. In regard to writing for the general public as Stephen J. Gould has done, Paul commented that "as you move to writing journalism, you need to realize that you won't be taken seriously." This was evident in the number of times throughout the field trip that I heard people criticize various concepts Gould put forth in Wonderful Life. At one point the flow of stories turned to drinking episodes involving various paleontologists. In listening to them talk about a colleague who has a drinking problem, I noticed that both men expressed concern for this person's well being rather than criticism. Andy mention that this person had recently married. Both he and Paul thought this was a good thing for this person and that being married might help reduce the drinking problem. One story flowed into another: One, told by Paul, involved quite a heavy drinker at a geology conference dinner. It seems that this person, having drank more than his share of alcohol, passed out falling face first into his food just as the guest speaker was about to address the audience. The group of people sitting with this fellow thought it best not to create any disturbance by moving him so they left him as he was. Mid-way through the speaker's presentation, the fellow sat up and vomited all over the table. His friends quickly removed him to the washroom where he was last seen with his feet sticking out from under one of the stalls. Next Andy prefaced a story with an apology for its grossness, then went on to relate a very funny incident about a woman who had gotten sick from drinking too much: A rather inebriated female paleontologist, while conversing with a colleague in his hotel room, let out a loud belch. She excused herself and continued the conversation. Then without a word she turned her head to the side and vomited all over her friend's bed. Turning back to her colleague she simply commented, "do go on." This story prompted Carl, who I hadn't realized was also listening in on Andy and Paul's conversation, to relate another gross and embarrassing tale about himself: It seems Carl, having decided to travel in luxury on one of his research field trips, purchased a collapsible toilet designed for back country use. At the first call to use it, Carl made his way off into the woods and did his business. As he reached for the toilet paper, the toilet lived up to its name and collapsed into the sphagnum moss which he proceeded to use to clean himself. This flow of story telling appeared to have a life of its own. It had a natural spontaneity to it based on association as much as anything else. One story seemed to trigger someone's memory of a similar story which in turn triggered another and so on. The stories were accompanied by considerable laughter and a sense of joy. Just prior to our mid-morning break, a very delightful and attractive young woman (a friend of mine who I had not seen for several years) appeared on the trail ahead of us. Recognizing me she ran up and gave me a big hug and a kiss. The group was quite impressed and teased me about it for some time afterward. Paul and Andy indicated that there was little need on this trip to discuss technical or research issues as they were quite familiar with each other's work as well as that of the others within the group through reviewing papers for acceptance for publication as well as from reading professional journals. For many of the geological and paleontological publications the reviews are signed so the author of the paper knows who thinks what about what he has written. Jerry mentioned that in his work as a professional chemist, reviews were never signed so he never new who had reviewed his papers. Paul estimated that there are only about 50 or so active paleontologists in Canada and possibly only 70 some active trilobite specialists worldwide. Both Paul and Andy were in agreement that most of the group was aware of the professional differences between various individuals and, as is typical with paleontologists, were quite willing to express their differing opinions with each other. They expected that more of this kind of discussion would occur as people presented their papers at the conference. We stopped for lunch on a lovely open slope that provided us with great views of the mountains. After lunch I listened as Andy questioned Peter about his work with the Foundation's out-reach education program in which local high school students were involved in doing some fairly sophisticated research. I also had a discussion with Carl about the value of tenure for university professors. He sees tenure as a mechanism for protecting professors from political interference not from incompetence. Just prior to arriving at our destination, the forest gave way to the talus slopes of the Burgess Shale, which lie between Mount Field to the south and Wapta Mountain to the north. The quarries are located in the clay shales of the Stephen Formation, the same formation as the fossils beds we visited on Mount Stephen. This is what everyone had been waiting for. At that very moment, a single gray cloud passed over dropping a touch of rain and then moved on. As we approached the old Walcott horse trail that leads up to the quarries from the main trail, people started quizzing Peter about Walcott's discovery of the site. While there were many versions told during the trip as to what actually occurred on that historic day, the way I remember it is that Charles Walcott came to Alberta to collect fossils from the Stephen Formation. Late in the summer of 1909 while riding his horse back to his camp, Walcott found the trail blocked by a large rock. He dismounted and proceeded to clear the trial. In the process of doing so, he discovered the rock to be a fossil-bearing slab of shale. Some have it that the fossil was Marrella; others aren't so sure. The rest, as they say, is history. According to Stephen J. Gould, the Burgess Shale is, in the minds of many but not all, the world's most important animal fossil bed ever unearthed in that "its power to alter our view of life cannot be matched by any other paleontological discovery."2 The diversity of animal life found in these Cambrian rocks outstrips that of any other and as such has given rise to new interpretations of the evolution of multicellular animal life. It is from the fossils found in these rocks that paleontologists hope to be able to unravel some of the mysteries of early animal life evolution. Carl disagrees with Gould's notion of the Burgess Shale being the world's most important fossil locality: I've always thought the importance of the Burgess Shale is overblown. I think every fossil is equally important and every fossil locality has the potential to be important. The Burgess Shale certainly does have a wider range of information than is usually available. While I've always felt its importance to be exaggerated, it is important to have these sorts of icons that everybody looks to, and, somehow or other, they make people more interested in paleontology. It's like dinosaurs. Dinosaurs are vastly over inflated in the media and the public's mind, yet without dinosaurs I think paleontology would be suffering as a discipline. The Burgess Shale, I suppose in invertebrates, is the equivalent to dinosaurs. The Burgess Shale was first quarried between 1910 and 1917 by Charles Walcott, Secretary of the Smithsonian Institute. He was followed by Percy Raymond in the 1930's and Harry Whittington who was with the Geological Survey of Canada during the 1960's. Presently, the National Geographic Society funds Connor Moore of the Royal Ontario Museum to work the quarry. It was Connor who greeted us as we arrived. Connor was generous with his time. After discussing the history of the Walcott quarry, he described his standard display of fossils. This was rather humorous, because Peter, standing on a ledge above and to the side of Connor, held up little pictures of each specimen Connor described. While these little pictures would be important for the average tourist group, for most of our group it was not at all necessary. But it was helpful for me. Later, Connor showed us his special collection of "keeper" fossils which were not typically shown to tour groups. He also took us to see the Raymond quarry which is the middle one of the three Burgess Shale quarries and situated directly above the Walcott quarry. The upper quarry is quite small and the trail up to it is steep and rocky so we did not venture up to it. While at the Raymond quarry, Sam had his picture taken in the exact location and pose that Stephen Gould had his taken when he visited the site. Sam thought of this as a bit of a joke in that he contends Gould's only reason for visiting the quarries was to have his picture taken for his book, Wonderful Life. With the sun shining between high scattered clouds, cameras clicked away. In addition to fossils, people and vistas were popular topics for photos. Henry set up his camera on a tripod and took pictures at 18 degree intervals through a full 360 degrees. The resulting pictures, when scanned into a computer program he has back at the museum, allow the viewer to pan the entire landscape as if standing in the spot where the camera was. In addition to the conversations with Connor, people talked with the three research assistants who, with hammer and chisel in hand, were busy breaking loose slabs of shale and examining them for fossils. One of the field assistants explained to us that if they didn't find anything of interest, the rock was discarded and they continued with another piece. He went on to say that for a fossil to be of interest, the specimen needs to be either a rare species or of an unusual presentation, or show some uncommon characteristic. Besides Connor and the research assistants, Miles, a retired geologist who volunteered his time and expertise to map the various bands of rock which run through the quarry, talked with small groups about the work he was doing. In conversation with Hans, Miles complained that some thirty years ago the terminology "lower," "middle," and "upper" Cambrian had been agreed upon by members of a major paleontological association to be abandoned. Miles had co-authored a paper about this decision, a paper he claims was ignored by the paleontological community. Later in conversation with Carl and Paul, Hans mentioned that he "only knew of two of Miles' papers," whereas Carl was "not familiar with his work at all." Generally, everyone had positive things to say about the work going on at the quarry. However, Carl and Paul would like to see Connor publish more on what he has uncovered. They also commented, and others agreed, that it would be of value to have other paleontologists work the site in conjunction with Connor. We spent close to two hours at the quarries. Our time there had an intenseness to it. Whether people were examining a specimen with a magnifying glass, taking a photo, or having a discussion, it was done with a sense of reverence and awe, with a concentrated focus. As our time at the quarry came to an end, Connor rounded us up for a group picture. There was a great deal of laughter as people ran back and forth between the group and the research assistants who were taking the pictures--one each from each of the sixteen different cameras. Jerry held a welcoming sign made especially for our group by one of the researchers, and Sam, in his youthful playfulness, held Connor's rather large plastic replica of Anomalocaris like rabbit ears behind Henry's head. With the photo shoot complete, we said our farewells and were on our way. The journey back to Field took about three hours. We descended the quarry trail back down to the main trail and then continued along the ridge that leads to Mount Burgess. Once the trail crosses over the ridge, it descends quite sharply down to Field. From there to the highway, it was one switchback after another. As we descended the slope, our party of hikers naturally separated into groups of individuals who travel at the same speed. Andy and Paul went first as they had volunteered to shuttle the van back from the trailhead. Martin, Sam, and Carl were next followed by Henry and me. We were followed by Hans and Phelim, then Janet and Patrick, and finally the rest of the company with Peter bringing up the rear. On our way down, Henry and I discussed, among other things, the educational programs he coordinates at the museum where he works, how he makes sense of geological time by comparing one rock or fossil with another, i.e. 'A' is twice as old as 'B', how he was finally getting used to the local geological names, and his getting to know members of the group, none of whom he knew prior to the field trip. During our conversation, he referred to the hike to the Burgess Shale as a "pilgrimage" for some. This was the first reference to this experience being a pilgrimage, and, as such, I didn't pursue it any further at the time. Henry and I arrived back at the Teahouse in Field about 6:30 pm. As we waited for the rest of the group to descend the slopes, Paul, who had returned with the vans, talked about the need to do paleontology that makes connections between fossils and living organisms. He sited Patrick's work as an example of the kind of research that needs to be done in this regard. Near-by Hans and Phelim discussed various trilobite issues, a conversation that continued throughout the evening. Upon arriving back at the Hostel, I engaged Hans, Janet, Henry, and Jerry, who were all rooming together, in a group interview over dinner. I opened the interview with a question about the value of the Burgess Shale experience. Hans responded that for him it had "a tourist aspect." He then added that it's "a must to have been at the Burgess Shale." Later in the conversation he commented that the reason he choose this pre-conference field trip over the post-conference trip was because "I'm really interested in seeing the Burgess Shale." He went on to say that he was there to see if the Burgess Shale fit with how it was depicted. He concluded that it "fit like a glove." Given that everyone had probably seen all the films and pictures and read all the descriptions, Janet doubted if anyone was really surprised at what they saw. What was important to her was the personal experience. In telling her students about it, she would be able to go beyond what she had read and talk about what it was really like up there. Henry echoed her remarks and added that the pictures are all so little and fragmented, but by being there "you get a much better feel for it." Jerry responded with: The whole reason I came on this trip was to go to the Burgess Shale. The Mount Stephen fossil beds were important, but I would have come just to go to the Burgess Shale. It's the pilgrimage thing if you will. I've read a lot about it. I've seen most of the specimens in the Smithsonian. I've read an awful lot about Walcott and know a lot about him. . . . I learned a hell of a lot today because, although you can read all these things about where it is and how long the trip is, until you've done it, until you've been there, you don't realize how isolated the thing is. But just to see the Burgess Shale, to see what they have to go through to work the bed--to see the quarry itself. Standing in the quarry was exactly what I thought it would be. I mean just exactly what I thought it would be. . . . I thought it was one of the nicest things I've done in the last ten, fifteen years. I really enjoyed it. I would have crawled to the damn thing. From here our discussion moved on to how many other localities there are like the Burgess Shale that have yet to be discovered. We talked about the vastness of the Rockies and other mountains around the world. Jerry informed us that Walcott was a master at finding the unusual: He had remarkable powers of observation. When he looked at something and it was different, he knew it was different. It wasn't just a stain on a rock. Some of the stuff they showed us you had to tip a certain way or sometimes swirl some water on it to see what it was. And if it had been out in the sun for five or six years who knows what it would look like. To notice these things takes good powers of observation--the ability to know when something is different. Walcott had done things like this over and over again. This wasn't the first time he stumbled on things. He was an extraordinary individual. The remainder of the conversation moved from the importance of trilobites as a fossil index used to establish the relative age of different rocks to the dwindling number of paleontologists, particularly trilobite specialists, and how difficult it is to interest students in pursuing a career in paleontology, to mass extinctions of trilobites, to the difficulty of gaining agreement on terms and stages, to conflicts between individuals who would be on the post-conference field trip. With dinner and the interview complete, I joined Paul, Martin, and Andy for a beer at a nearby pub. Our conversation focused on the intricacies of the process of reviewing academic papers and the high cost of subscribing to technical journals--in the thousands of dollars a year for some. I was astonished. Around 11 pm, we returned to the hostel. I found a quiet spot in the common room and wrote out my fieldnotes for the day. After hours of listening to various people tell stories, I began to realize the importance of story as a device for building, maintaining, and defining community, in particular the community of trilobite specialists within the greater community of paleontologists and geologists. It struck me that my stories (an attempt to fit in, to be part of the group) don't wash because they are about anonymous outsiders. This was a major insight for me today. I am also starting to see the stories as fitting into categories, i.e. gossip, personal (work, family), adventure (travel, work). These are not as yet fixed categories, just initial hunches. I also began to comprehend how being there makes a difference in knowing.
18 August 1997: Tanglefoot Creek Trilobite Beds At 6:45 am while lying in bed, I made the following journal entry: Last night, once in bed, I got to thinking about how sharing experiences was part of building community, i.e. holding like-minded folks together as well as bringing new folks into the fold. The common experience is a social, mental, emotional, and spiritual process. Having trekked to the Burgess Shale was a very powerful community building process. The wasp stings were one of the asides that reinforces the bond. Once I was up and about, the Koreans invited me to join them for breakfast Korean Style--hot instant noodles. We ate in the Hostel's communal kitchen; the others ate in the Hostel's restaurant. Later, Kildong and I joined Patrick and Andy in the restaurant for coffee. Andy told us he had three reasons for choosing this trip. First, he knew Carl and Paul were "nice guys" and "fun"; second, it relates to his work; and third, he wanted to visit the Burgess Shale. By eight o'clock we were on the road. We made a quick visit to Chateau Lake Louise, then headed west to Golden, and south to Cranbrook, a journey of some 280 kms not including a lengthy side trip to the Tanglefoot Creek trilobite beds. The morning ride was uneventful. The effects of two consecutive days of extensive hiking were evident both in the quietness of the group on the drive and as people slowly exited the vans for lunch at Nubury Lake just south of Fort Steele. There were many stiff legs and sore feet. However, the sun was warm and the lake beautiful; we enjoyed a peaceful lunch. Most of the group sat on the grass at the edge of the lake. Carl, Andy, Martin, Jerry, and Sam sat on a wooden dock that extended out onto the lake. Sam went for a swim. After lunch we headed for the Tanglefoot Creek trilobite beds. Paul and Carl's first visit to these beds is an interesting story. Paul had heard a story about this place from a collector and decided to check it out. He arrived at the site to find Carl already there. Carl had heard about the beds from a completely different source and was there for the first time as well. It was quite the coincidence. Knowing that Carl would do more with the specimens collected there than he would, Paul left the site for Carl to explore. The drive from Nubury Lake to Tanglefoot Creek was approximately 50 kms, much of which was on an old logging road. We drove until we came to a spot where the road was washed out. Neither Carl nor Paul could remember exactly how far we had left to go. But, after studying the map, it was determined that we were within a kilometer or so of the creek which led to the trilobite beds. Thus, we headed off on foot to where the creek intersected the road. Because of my experience as a leader of extended wilderness trips, Carl asked me to bring up the rear. For the most part, I walked with Janet and Levi who were at the back of the group. Being the worse for wear after two days of strenuous hiking, they talked about how this field trip was unlike any they had previously experienced. Most other geological field trips they had been on involved driving along the highway with periodic stops to look at some geology and listening to a mini-lecture given by the trip organizer. This trip, while it did involve some looking at roadside geology, involved virtually no lecturing. The long hikes were something they had not experienced before on a conference field trip. They both agreed that they were "losing their enthusiasm for the hiking." After hiking over 5 kms, I began to feel anxious as we had been out of contact with the others for some time. To ensure that we had not somehow missed the turn off, I picked up my pace, leaving Janet and Levi behind. Within a few minutes, I could see Tolsoe and a second unidentified person ahead of us. Knowing that we were still on track, I rejoined Janet and Levi. Janet assured me that the group would wait for us at the turn off--I was not so sure. In the end, she was right. As it turned out, after 7 kms or so we caught up with the group waiting for us at the turn off. From there it was another 3 kms of bushwhacking through forest and dry creek bed to the upper Cambrian trilobite site. The hike was much longer than anyone had anticipated. Yet when we arrived at the trilobite beds, there was a renewed enthusiasm. Here, for the first time on the trip, we could actually collect, not just look at, fossils. After a short briefing by Carl, the group, with hammers in hand, dispersed across the barren slopes of the creek in search of 500 million year old trilobites. I was the only one without a hammer. I felt like the odd man out, but that did not stop me from searching for fossils. With some coaching from Paul as to what to look for, I quickly found a small, but whole, trilobite which I kept as my one and only trilobite keepsake. I continued searching for most of the afternoon, but found none as nice as the first one. Throughout the afternoon, Carl took the time to show the specimens he had found to anyone who was interested. He identified them for us and then offered to identify any of ours. With great speed and confidence he quickly divided up my small collection of 10 to 15 trilobite pieces into three separate species--the most common of the area. After a couple of hours of collecting, we headed back to the vans. I hiked down the creek to the road with Hans who had collected 137 whole trilobite specimens, the most of anyone in the group. As we made our way down the creek bed, he answered many of my questions about trilobites. Throughout the trip he was always willing to talk with me, as was everyone else. Back on the road I recorded a conversation between Patrick and Levi as we walked to the vans. Unfortunately, I missed recording the first part of it because the microphone was not turned on. However, I did discover the problem part way through and was able to record most of the conversation. As we talked, both Patrick and Levi indicated that they were on the trip primarily to visit the Burgess Shale. Patrick described the visit to the Burgess Shale as "a pilgrimage to the holy shrine," and as "a must for every paleontologist." He was concerned that it might not live up to his expectations, but it did. It was as Levi had expected as well. In discussing factors that influence their thinking, Patrick commented that You can't just read somebody else and say, "Oh, yah. That sounds good." I usually have ideas of my own and then I might see papers written that may support or refute what I thought and that's basically the process. If I see enough good points that are against the ideas that I had then I have to change the way I'm thinking. Our conversation also included discussions about catastrophism versus gradualism, the nature of geological time, the question of whether geological time can record instantaneous events, and what constitutes an instantaneous event. In discussing the attempt on some people's part to shift the perception of paleontology from a soft science to a hard science, Levi indicated that "the hard sciences look at paleontology as a descriptive science because it doesn't use or need any mathematics. However, some paleontologists are trying to make it more statistical, more mathematical." Patrick added that "hard sciences have labeled paleontologists as mere stamp collectors who contribute nothing of value to science. This stings a lot of people's pride. Consequently, some of them are trying to elevate it to a hard science." In discussing the cultural differences with regard to students questioning their professors, Patrick suggested that in his experience it was okay to question the ideas of a professor: Last year in a seminar Paul was teaching there were a few German students in the class and they were absolutely shocked at the Canadian students who would get up and start arguing with Paul over some point. To the Germans that is just not done. Whatever the professor says is law, which is a very sad way of doing things because there are some people who have some very bad ideas. Patrick went on to say that arguing with your professor was part of learning how to make an argument and to defend one's position as well as change another person's thinking. He sited the following example: And both the professor and the student can learn from these arguments because when you're in the midst of an argument like that it challenges you to think about it in ways you may not have thought about before. If you just make your decision and then never think about it again, then it stagnates. But if you get something challenging your ideas, you're forced to defend it, forced to think about it and it'll grow. A good example of that is a paper I wrote in zoology--I do some work in zoology as well as geology--on feeding mechanisms of local florates. Now, the professor that I was working under had been studying this for most of his life, and he and another person, Washington, had been arguing in the literature for about twenty years over how it worked. Eventually the topic just sort of died off for the last 15 years because they were at a stalemate. I read the literature. And, based on the observations that they made--I assumed that the observations that each of them had made were correct--designed a new model that incorporated all of the observations they had made and presented that to my professor. His first reaction to this was "Oh, what a lot of nonsense." Then he thought about it and said, "Well, wait a second. Patrick's right!" And then started doing a whole bunch more research, reopened the whole field to see if I was right or not and is now publishing some papers on a topic that had been dead for 15 years just because I decided to challenge the way he had thought of it. Levi indicated that he was more likely to ask questions for clarity as opposed to challenge a professor's thinking or ideas. While he knows his questioning tends to irritate people at times, he finds geologists generally to be friendly people. Despite his status as an amateur paleontologist, he has never felt rejected by the professionals, but neither has he been accepted into the inner circle. From there our conversation moved on to a discussion of how both Patrick and Levi interpreted Peter's description of the hike up Mount Stephen as mentioned earlier in the chapter. Patrick assumed that Peter was giving out a warning to people he knew were experienced geologists and consequently used to rigorous climbing. As a result, Patrick became "awful nervous about the climb." Levi interpreted it the opposite way. He understood Peter simply to be "just telling us that because it was his job." Interestingly, their realities of the climb were totally different. For Patrick it was nothing worse than what he had done dozens of times before, while for Levi, it was the steepest and most difficult climb he had ever experienced. We arrived back at the van tired and happy to be off our sore and blistered feet. Jerry, who was among the first to return to the vans, soaked his feet in the river while he waited for the rest of us to arrive. It was 8:30 pm by the time we were all back and ready to leave, and with still an hour long drive on the logging road and another half hour by highway to Cranbrook ahead of us, no one complained. By 10:20 pm we were checked into the hotel but had not yet eaten dinner; still no one complained. Each day before starting off on our hike, we were given the opportunity to remain behind--no one did. Such is the nature of trilobite hunters. Before we went to dinner, Andy presented Carl with a bottle of Irish whiskey and Paul with a bottle of Scotch as a token of our thanks for the fine job they had done in organizing and leading the field trip. We all contributed four dollars to the cause. At dinner I shared a bottle of Retcina with Paul, Henry, and Martin. Martin talked about how important it is for him, being so isolated from other paleontologists because of living in Australia, to make connections with other paleontologists and how this field trip plays an important role in doing just that. This is particularly important as his post doctoral appointment is coming to an end, and he will be looking for new employment in a very tight market place. Several people mentioned at various times how there is less and less money and fewer and fewer jobs available for paleontologists. We finished dinner and returned to our rooms around mid-night. Henry wrote in his journal as I wrote in mine. Besides everything I have already mentioned, I noticed that both Sam and Tolsoe, as Carl's apprentices, were learning what it took to be field paleontologists, not just in terms of the technical aspects related to knowing paleontology and the physical effort required in collecting specimens, but also in terms of group travel. Tolsoe was initiated to the demands of driving on logging roads. To and from Tanglefoot Creek, Carl, who was an old hand at driving on logging roads, drove at a fair speed, leaving Tolsoe and the others behind. Every now and again we would stop and wait for them to catch up with us. At one point after we had been waiting for them for quite awhile, Carl commented that they must have had a flat or something, but such was not the case. Tolsoe was simply driving much slower than Carl. Tolsoe also learned about the intricacies of loading and unloading everyone's luggage. Sam, on the other hand, learned the value of keeping track of expenses. At one of our stops for gas, Sam made a purchase on the expense account but had forgotten to get the receipt. Carl made him go back into the store and get it while the rest of us waited in the van. When Sam returned with receipt in hand, Carl explained to him, "It's one of the things you've got to learn."
19 August 1997: The Ammonite Mine At breakfast, Paul made a friendly comment about me jotting down notes in my notebook all the time. His comment left me with a real sense of inclusion. Carl followed up with a comment about my notes including all the rude stories they told, and the incidents of him interrupting Paul, which were numerous. This made everyone laugh. Listening to this and the rest of the breakfast conversation, I realized that meals were an important setting for conversations, for sharing ideas, stories and information. Not only was it important to note what was being said, but also who was listening to what was being said. Hence, I started recording seating arrangements at meals, (see Appendix F). While we were loading the van in the morning, Sam, with girl-friend in hand, passed by us as they crossed the parking lot on the way to her car. I was surprised, given that he is the youngest of the group, that no one said anything to him about having a female companion. I expected he would receive some razing from the group, but he didn't. When he returned to the van where a small group of us were standing, Carl instructed him to wash the van windows. Carl pointed out that Sam was being paid to be his assistant for the summer. After our fossil collecting experience at Tanglefoot Creek, I realized I was feeling more like a participant than an observer. I noticed that I was becoming more and more interested in the geology and paleontology that we stopped to look at along the way. In the van I was looking through Ben Gadd's Handbook of the Canadian Rockies and decided I would purchase a copy once I returned to Calgary. However, when we arrived at the Frank Slide, the gift shop had a copy for sale for $40. Now most people who had purchased copies during the trip had paid between $35 and $40. I negotiated with the clerk to reduce the price to $35, which she did. I was quite excited about this interaction and told several people about it. It felt good to have an in-context story to share with the group. I noticed throughout the trip that several people wore trilobite or paleontology t-shirts, some of which had been purchased during our visit to Field, and others prior to our trip. As we walked around the Frank Slide, I realized I wanted one of my own and decided to buy one when we visited the Tyrell Museum if I could find one. While Sam and I were touring the Frank Slide we discussed our visit to the Burgess Shale; he referred to it as "holy ground for paleontologists." Upon leaving the Frank Slide, Phelim reached forward, tapped Hans on the shoulder and in a soft, quiet voice, reminded him to fasten his seat belt. From the Frank Slide we drove to Magrath to visit an Ammonite Mine. The open-pit mine operated by Canada Fossil Ltd. is a long deep trench from which ammonites, squid-like animals related to the nautilus, are extracted. The ammonite fossils range in size from two to three feet in diameter and up to a foot deep. They contain very colorful gem-like deposits used to make jewelry. In addition to the mine, we visited Canada Fossil's claims along the St. Mary River. Our guide told us that one of his responsibilities was to comb the shoreline of the river in search of ammonites that have eroded from the banks and to keep an eye out for poachers. We were allowed to collect broken pieces along the river as the quality of the ammonites when exposed to the air deteriorates quite quickly. Levi collected several pieces of ammonite. Because he had more than he could take back on the airplane, he gave me two samples, his best and another which showed the ammonite's sutures. Our drive from Cranbrook to Drumheller via Magrath and Calgary covered a distance of approximately 700 kms. At lunch I tape recorded an interview with Paul regarding the story he mentioned to me at the Columbia Icefields about contemplating specimens of ribbon limestone in order to understand the lithification process used in its formation (see chapter four, pages 158 and 162-3). Later during the day I had a long conversation with Andy regarding the value of the trip for him personally. He commented that it helped him gain a deeper understanding of Paul. He saw Paul as a very creative person who was well grounded in his field. Andy described him as sometimes getting it right and sometimes not, but always going for it. Despite any differences of opinion they might have regarding trilobites or paleontological issues in general, they remained close friends. Andy commented that in this business one gains recognition and credibility through publishing significant monographs. He also saw the trip as an opportunity to discuss the finer points of such papers written by the various members of the group. Making connections with other participants was also an important aspect of this trip for him. He had been discussing with Hans the possibility of one of Hans' graduate students coming from Germany to work with him in California. In conversation with Henry, I learned that this trip was unlike any other field trip he had previously been on. As Janet and Levi had mentioned earlier, most of the others were in and out of vehicles to look at a roadside site, none of this walking 20 kms a day as we had done. Henry had no idea prior to the trip what it would be like. Just east of Ft. McLeod, Carl asked me to drive the van. I drove to Calgary where we stopped at the Greyhound Bus Depot to drop off Paul and Patrick. They had to return home in order for Paul to finish preparing his conference presentation. Carl, Jerry, Martin, Kildong, Tolsoe, and Levi were also presenting papers at the conference. Before leaving the bus depot, Carl asked me for ideas about where we should go for dinner: I choose Earl's. I couldn't have made a better choice. The service was great as was the food. I was proud to be able to entertain my friends in my home town. Again it was quite late when we arrived at our hotel in Drumheller. It was mid-night before I began to write out my daily fieldnotes. I am amazed at how much information I have. At times during the day I think nothing is happening, then, when I sit down to write, I discover just how much has gone on. Tonight I have written for over an hour and still have lots to say. I noticed last night at dinner and throughout today, there was much more talk about paleontology and geology than there had been previously. This group used their technical vocabulary like household words. While there was some separation between those who know the language and those who do not, the use of this technical language appeared to just be part of the territory. I never got the sense that it was being used to gain status or to show hierarchical position. I think positions were fairly well established prior to the trip. Over the course of the trip I noticed that I was becoming more familiar with the terminology. I did not always understand what the terms meant, but I recognized them by sound and context.
20 August 1997: The Royal Tyrell Museum At breakfast I chatted with Carl. He indicated that this trip was intentionally designed not to be lecture-based. He figured "everyone was an adult and able to ask questions" if they were interested in knowing more about the geology or paleontology of an area. Also at breakfast, Hans and Phelim discussed the change in the last ten years in paleontologists' understanding of Cambrian time boundaries. After breakfast, as we drove the short distance to Horse Thief Canyon we again had difficulty finding our way: One of the interesting reoccurring situations over the past few days has been Carl's faulty memory in locating the place he intended to take us. Each of these times (Tanglefoot Creek, Canada Fossil Mine and Horse Thief Canyon) his memory was inaccurate and we either had to back-track or go out of our way or walk considerably farther than anticipated. Interestingly enough, the group showed no apparent stress or concern about this. Hans indicated that unlike many groups which have two or three malcontents, this group had none. He experienced paleontologists in general as being quite a harmonious group. During the course of our drive, Carl and Hans told stories. Carl told of a previous trip to the Drumheller area when he had gotten his vehicle stuck. He also told stories about doing geological field work in Australia and driving in Ireland. Hans told stories, among other things, about life in Germany. In between stories Carl pointed out the local geology and provided information about dinosaurs. At one point when we stopped to look at some geology, Martin commented that "you can never see too many rocks." The view from the Horse Thief Canyon overlook was magnificent. Everyone had cameras out and was taking pictures. The canyon is made up of layered bands of clay. Henry and Janet explained to me how these layers were formed. While Sam and Hans scrambled down into the depths of the coulee--Sam seeking dinosaur bones and Hans taking photos--the rest of us gathered around Carl as he told stories about the two paleontological icons, Cope and Marsh, whom I heard about earlier in the trip. The story is that Cope's wish was to become the "type specimen" for Homo sapiens. So upon his death, his wish became true, and Marsh traveled from place to place with Cope's skull in hand showing it off. Carl ended his story with a disparaging remark about the narrowness of having a "syphilitic male WASP" as the type specimen for humans. We all agreed. From Horse Thief Canyon we made our way to the Royal Tyrell Museum, the last of our paleontological stops. The morning was warm and sunny. Waiting for the museum to open, we waited around outside chatting and taking pictures of life-size model dinosaurs. While we waited Carl informed us that there may be some surplus money available because the trip had not cost as much as anticipated. He inquired as to what people wanted done with this surplus. He could send each of us our share, turn the money over to the conference to help cover conference expenses, or it could be donated to a particular trilobite publication. With very little discussion, it was unanimously decided to use it to support the trilobite publication. Once inside the museum, we were greeted by a young woman employee dressed in a trilobite costume. This "living trilobite" was promoting the museum's Burgess Shale Black Light Show which we attended later. Again there was a great deal of picture taking. Before touring the exhibits, we were met by a museum curator who gave us an hour long tour of the museum's work areas. We observed researchers whittling stone away from fossil bones. One worker told us that it would take at least two years to remove the stone from around the fossil she was working on. Both Henry and Andy asked our curator guide numerous questions about the operation of the museum. Carl expressed concern about the refusal of the curators at the museum to acknowledge his and other academics' photos and species descriptions. Our curator guide relied, "It probably won't change." From the fossil extraction room we went into the fossil storage room. I was surprised at the vast variety of fossil specimens that were housed in the museum's storage area. Previously, I had only thought of the museum as housing its public exhibits. I had no idea that it was actually a library containing vast collections of specimens used mainly for research. While we were examining the ammonite collection, Carl discussed two "bite hole" theories: One theory has it that the bite holes result from limpets grazing on them, while the other has it that they are tooth marks caused by mosasaurs. In discussing the first theory, Carl commented that there were "complications with the story." He went on to say that the way the theory process works is "I have an idea" and then someone else says, "I have a better idea." Once the guided tour was complete, we embarked upon an independent tour of the museum's public exhibits. While most visitors to the museum spend their time looking at the dinosaur exhibits, members of our group spent most of their time examining the Precambrian and Cambrian displays, particularly the one containing trilobite fossils. I started out with Sam, Henry, Martin, and Jerry. Later, I met up with Kildong, Mongryong, and Tolsoe. Afterward, I wandered around the exhibits on my own for a while. At one of the Precambrian exhibits showing an Australian Cyclomedusa, Martin explained to Jerry, Sam, and me how this creature attached itself to the substrate and formed as a fossil. He pointed out that the Cyclomedusa on display was positioned upside down. He attributed this to one author who made this error, which was in turn copied not only here but elsewhere. This was not the only mistake noted by members of the group. Both Jerry and Carl noted numerous mistakes in other trilobite displays including spelling and naming errors as well as the poor quality of some specimens. Despite these flaws, people still maintained considerable respect for the work done by the museum. Carl suggested that the problem was simply one of not having a trilobite expert help them set-up the trilobite displays. He described the museum as "very good and, with some work, it could be great." After an hour or so of visiting the exhibits, we gathered together for the Burgess Shale Black Light Show which was delightful. Two young women began by narrating a five minute slide show about the Burgess Shale. I knew it all. I was even able to go beyond what they had said. The timing couldn't have been better. I felt very connected to the presentation as I had been to the Burgess Shale. The light show consisted of puppets handled by the two young women and a recorded narrator's voice. The relationships and interactions occurring between various life forms (I recognized all of the animal forms) found at the Burgess Shale were portrayed using black lights. What I found most interesting is that I could pick out their sources of information. For example, they mentioned the "weird wonders," a term taken from Stephen Gould. They also showed the differences of opinion regarding which was the correct upright position for Hallucigenia. Thus, they went beyond Gould, as I had. Our drive from Drumheller to Edmonton was uneventful. Our only stop was for lunch in Stettler. During the drive Kildong asked me about various aspects of the local farms. As we talked, I came to realize that this field trip was not just about geology and paleontology; it is also about culture. Through conversations, questions, and stories we come to a better understanding of how each of us live. As we neared Edmonton, we started the departure process by first dropping Janet off at her hotel near the Edmonton International Airport. As Andy retrieved her bag from the luggage van, she said a quiet good-bye and quickly disappeared into the hotel. Once in Edmonton, we dropped Jerry off at his hotel. He left with handshakes bidding farewell to Sam and me and "see you at the conference" to the others. Levi and Henry's departures were similar. Next we stopped at Carl's residence where Tolsoe departed with Kildong and Mongryong, both of whom reminded me to write to them via e-mail. Phelim and Hans remained at Carl's, while Andy, Sam, and Carl drove me to the university where I had left my vehicle. After picking up my vehicle, I met with Henry who accompanied me as I tried to locate a facility that could make a copy of Phelim's video. Being a Chinese formatted video, no one was able to copy it. Before returning the video to Phelim, Henry and I went for dinner at an Earl's near the hotel where he was staying. From there I went to Carl's to return Phelim's video. Carl invited me in for pie and coffee. Andy, Hans, and Phelim were all staying over night at Carl's and flying together the following morning to the conference. Everyone was going on to the conference except Sam, Patrick, and me. Pie and coffee became another occasion for storytelling. Andy told about eating cheese from the Queen's table. Apparently, once a block of cheese has been cut and served to the Queen of England, it is immediately removed from the table. This cut block of cheese is then served to guests dining in other areas of the Palace. Several years ago Andy had the privilege of being one of the honored guests who was served the Queen's cheese. This story prompted Carl to tell a story about receiving a telephone call from Buckingham Palace. While attending a meeting in London, a secretary entered the room and announced that there was a call from Buckingham Palace for Carl. Everyone at the meeting was duly impressed. Carl never revealed that it was a colleague visiting the Palace and not the Queen who had called. These stories led me to initiate a discussion about the role of storytelling during the field trip. During our conversation, Carl commented that everyone had told stories, and that I had told stories too. He also remarked that I "fit in well" with the group and that everyone accepted me. Andy, Hans, and Phelim all agreed. I left Carl's just before nine o'clock. The field trip was now officially over, at least in terms of this case study. From Edmonton, I drove to our family cabin at Silver Lagoon near Bowden. There I continued my nightly ritual of converting the day's jottings to prose fieldnotes.
On the morning of August 21st, I drove from Bowden to Calgary. Along the way, I turned on my tape recorder and spent an hour asking myself questions about the field trip. During the field trip, my fieldnotes consisted mainly of descriptions of experience. I tried to keep interpretations and analysis to a minimum, but as the trip progressed this became more difficult to do. Once the trip was over, I felt at liberty to turn my attention toward interpretation and analysis. Consequently, while the content of the self-interview was primarily about the experiences of the field trip, it contained more of my interpretive thinking than did my fieldnotes. Immediately upon arriving in Calgary, I took my film in for one hour developing. Later that same afternoon, after collecting the developed photos, I organized them into a photo album. That evening and the next morning, I described the people and events depicted in the photos to my wife. We tape recorded the conversation, and I talked about everything that happened during the trip. She asked questions as we went along. Over the next few days, I wrote a short caption for each of the pictures in the album. Now, two years later, using all the methods of collecting information described above, I sat down and wrote this chapter. In those two intervening years, I developed a mental framework (see Chapter 2) for making sense of the data I collected during the field trip. The basis of the next chapter is the interpretation and analysis of that data.
17 August 1997: The Burgess Shale
Chapter 4: The Map is Not the Territory
May the FORCE be with you!
|
