Ashfall Fossil Beds State Historical Park

I was going to visit Ashfall Fossil Beds yesterday, but the park is closed on Monday and Tuesday. So, I found a free campsite in the small town of Orchard, Nebraska nearby. The town has two cement slabs with water and electricity. The electricity is $10 per night.

I drove to the park around 9:00 and made breakfast in the parking lot while waiting for them to open. A busload of students arrived, so I waited until 10, expecting them to be out of the Visitor Center.

I entered the Visitor Center, which was very loud with all the students. The woman at the counter explained the $8 entrance fee and said, “the students will be moving on soon.” I told her I didn’t mind the students at all. For some reason, she didn’t charge me the $14 Nebraska vehicle day pass fee. She suggested I go through the center and read all the plaques to get a basis for what I’d see in the Rhino Barn.

A few minutes later the decibel level dropped to a point where you could hear a pin drop. The Visitor Center at Ashfall Fossil Beds does a great job of setting the stage before you head out to the Rhino Barn. I found exhibits that explained the Miocene (MY-oh-seen, or in Europe MEE-oh-seen) world of Nebraska, complete with real fossil displays of rhinos, camels, horses, and extinct animals uncovered on site. Panels walked through how volcanic ash from Idaho buried the animals and preserved them in three dimensions. In terms of the amount of volcanic material produced, the Bruneau–Jarbidge eruption was roughly 1,000 times bigger than Mount St. Helens (1980). There were maps showing the spread of the eruption, replicas of skulls and burrows, and even a short film that tied the story together. It’s a compact but well-done introduction that makes the walk out to the dig site even more meaningful.

The walk out to the Rhino Barn is very interesting in its own right. A paved path winds through grasslands and flower beds, alive with butterflies, bees, and prairie birds, and carrying the smell of fresh-cut grass and wildflowers. At the very start of the trail, a thick red line marks the brief span of modern human existence—a humbling reminder of how short our story really is compared to the deep history preserved here. From there, the timeline carries you backward through millions of years, with markers explaining what happened in each era—like the extinction of the American hedgehog. Off to the right, an exposed dig area reminds you of the fossil riches still beneath the surface, before the path delivers you to the covered Rhino Barn itself.

Ashfall Fossil Beds in northeastern Nebraska is one of the most remarkable fossil sites in North America. About 12 million years ago, a massive volcanic eruption in what is now Idaho sent a plume of fine ash across the Great Plains. The ash drifted down like snow and piled up around a watering hole. Herds of rhinos, horses, camels, and other Miocene mammals came to drink, inhaled the glassy particles, and over weeks many collapsed and died. Because the animals were buried in soft, lightweight ash instead of dense rock, their skeletons were preserved in three dimensions, lying just as they fell. I found an online paper that documents the dig in detail

The site sat quietly on farmland until the mid-1970s, when paleontologists from the University of Nebraska began systematic excavations. Early funding and state support turned Ashfall into a protected park in 1979, and in the 1990s the “Rhino Barn” was built—a giant covered dig shelter where visitors can watch scientists at work. Additional grants and donations have continued to support the project, keeping research and public education closely linked.

What they’ve uncovered is extraordinary: entire herds of barrel-bodied rhinos, three-toed horses, tiny gazelle-camels, and even turtles and birds—all preserved in place. The vertical layering of the ash bed reveals the sequence of deaths, with smaller animals buried earlier and the largest rhinos found near the top. It is a “Pompeii of prehistoric Nebraska,” showing not just bones but the story of an ancient catastrophe frozen in time.

The importance of Ashfall extends beyond Nebraska. These fossils help fill in the Miocene record of North America, showing how animals lived, moved, and died during a period when grasslands were expanding. The ash itself, sourced from the Bruneau–Jarbidge volcanic field in Idaho, ties local history to distant geologic events. The dig is ongoing, with modern methods like CT scanning adding new detail without disturbing fragile bones. Ashfall remains both a window into the past and a living laboratory for future discovery. This is all documented in an online paper giving details about the dig site.

I stood and talked to the paleontologist who was also a professor at a university in Nebraska and had been here for 19 years. He was a traveler who enjoyed history as well. He made a lot of suggestions for places to see and a few interesting books. I thanked him for all the information and began my walk back to the Visitor Center. They have a very nice selection of books in the bookstore. There were a few I was interested in, but I already have problems storing the books I do own.

It was now 2 p.m., and I made my way to Norfolk, an hour south, to a park along the Cowboy Trail. I was planning to do a bike ride. The other nice thing was several sources said the trailhead was a good place for an overnight. If it didn’t work out, there was a Walmart a couple miles away. I made a small meal and took a nap.

Around 5 p.m. I started to get ready for a 15–20 mile ride before sunset. As I was about to pull the bike out of the van, a swarm of no-see-ums dropped down on the parking lot. There was a group of 30 people about to go on a hike, and we were all getting bitten and brushing them off our skin. I shut all the doors to the van and grabbed the bug spray. The back of the van was inundated with these nasty bugs. I didn’t think they lived this far north.

The trail was very well maintained and goes all the way to Valentine, where I was two days before when I rode another segment. I passed a guy who was stopped along the path and then passed him again on the way back going the other direction. After a few miles he caught me. For the next six miles I tried to stay with him successfully until we hit the cement pavement, and then he took off. In the end I had a very nice 18 mile ride.

Back at the van, I packed everything up and realized the no-see-ums had invaded inside. I made dinner and spent the next hour killing most of them. I stayed here at the trailhead, and drifted off around 10 p.m. I was periodically awakened by a random no-seeum bites. I also had to keep the vent closed because I don’t have no-see-um screens.