The valley of Los Angeles stretches for many miles from the ocean into the distant eastern hills. From the oil-rich Baldwin Hills on the south one can look across to the Santa Monica mountains rising on the northern edge of the valley. The city of Los Angeles spreads over the valley into nearby towns, creeps up the sides of the mountains and sends slender steel fingers reaching into the sky. A pall of smog rests lightly above the buildings and the distant roar of the smog-producing traffic fills the air. As we survey this scene of modern Los Angeles, our eyes are drawn to a cluster of high buildings standing like monuments in the center of the valley near the distant hills. This marks a grassy plot dotted with California trees and shrubs and cut diagonally by a small stream. Within the park, fenced areas protect ancient asphalt pits (commonly and incorrectly called "tar pits"). These are the La Brea pits-famous as traps for ancient animals who once made their home in this lovely valley.
"Rancho La Brea, once a Mexican land grant near the small Pueblo de los
Angeles and now a park in the heart of America's second largest city, is one of the world's most famous fossil sites. 'Tar Pits' formerly mined for natural asphalt have yielded an incredibly rich treasure trove of fossils up to 40,000 year in age. Here mammoths, fierce saber-toothed cats, packs of dire wolves, and hosts of birds became trapped and entombed. Sharing their fate were many other creatures ranging from tiny insects to bizarre giant ground sloths."
Let us travel back 40,000 years in a time machine to an early morning with the sun throwing deep red streaks across the sky. The air of this late spring day is cool and the dampness of the valley rises. The sky lightens to a rosy hue mottled with pink and orange. The grasses spread out before us, turning to gold and fading into the valley mists from which rise the blue and lavender mountains in the distance. The pungent odors of the rich soil, the pines and junipers fill the moist air with their fragrances. No buildings or smog mar the beauty of this scene.
The soft velvet tones of the mourning dove's song break the silence, and the valley gradually comes to life in the brightening light. We make our way slowly down the rolling hill as we begin a six mile trek across the valley to the asphalt pits. A golden eagle glides slowly above our heads and small ground squirrels scamper back to the protection of their tunnels.
We cross the many paths of the grazing animals and the ground is rough and the plants thick. The grass is damp and sparkling with dew and the orb weaver spider webs hang heavy with the same jeweled beads catching the rainbow hues of the sunlight.
The sparrows begin their busy day chirping and hovering over the grasses as they hunt for seeds. Beyond in a clearing, a family of skunks, still awake, is romping and playing. A small band of deer feeds on a nearby clump of bushes. They resemble our brown mule deer. The large brown ears twitch for they have heard our approach in the dry grass crackling beneath our feet. Alert and nervous, they disappear around the hill, bounding high in the air as they go. Their sudden movement frightens large numbers of sparrows, finches, larks and shrikes, which rise in a great wave, swirl over the hillside and then settle once again in the thick grass.
The hillside becomes steep and difficult through the tangle of bushes. Fence lizards scamper over outcroppings of rocks and a red racer snake quickly curls his way across our path. An alligator lizard hisses his displeasure at our presence. Wasps buzz about our heads, we feel the slender tension of spider webs across our faces and grass-hoppers jump at us from the grass as we stumble and slide, happy at last to reach the valley floor.
A quarter of a mile ahead the silver thread of Ballona Creek winds across our path, draining a swamp and flowing west to the Pacific. Behind the stream stretches the meadow and finally in the distance rise the tall pines growing at the La Brea pits.
We wait for a small herd of horses to pass by as they slowly graze at the foot of the hill. Suddenly, nervous and alert, they move away and break into a run. From nearby bushes a tawny lioness streaks towards a young horse, lunges at its head, and knocks it to the ground. A short, wild struggle ensues in a Cloud of dust and all is quiet. The tremendous lioness as large as a modern tiger, stands over her prey and tears into the inert body. A larger rnale lion proudly joins her and she moves back as he satisfies his hunger on the warn body.
In the distance the small herd is again quietly grazing and the golden dust slowly rises and disappears in the morning air.
Shaken and shocked at the quick and violent action, we cover the short distance to the stream. Resting in the shade of a tree we watch the activity along the water where the stream widens and provides a pool for the animals.
The water is full of small fish and the quieter waters at the edge are black with hundreds of tadpoles, many beginning to develop legs. A few young toads investigate the nearby land. Tiny gold green tree toads join them and their unbelievably shrill voices above other animal sounds.
Dragonflies, flashing blues, greens and reds, dart over the water dip to the surface and extend abdomens to quickly lay rafts of ( on the water. A great blue heron walks with slow and stately dignity in the shallow water and the small black-bellied plovers eagerly I on small animals at the water's edge. Downstream we can hear "cur-lee, cur-lee" of the long billed curlews.
Again we are alarmed as three bulky forms emerge from bushes in the distance and slowly and awkwardly make their towards us. These are giant ground sloths with bodies as thick an elephant, covered with long coarse brown hair and supporter short thick legs. The slender heads hang low. The bodies are heavy with strong muscles, and embedded in the skin are hundreds of s protective bones, like marbles. As the sloths draw close we see they walk on the sides of the hind feet and the knuckles of the f feet. The long curved claws extend three or four inches from toes. The animals lumber to the water's edge, extend their amazingly long tongues and lap the water. Quenching their thirst feed on the grass and raise their heavy bodies, supported b3 strong broad tail, to reach the tender shoots of the nearby trees and bushes. They have no front teeth, but with claws and long tongue, they pull in the leaves and grind them with the flat side teeth.
