How Fossil Ivory Is Found at The Boneyard Alaska
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Every piece of woolly mammoth fossil ivory I work with starts the same way — in a bucket, set out on wooden pallets to dry before it moves into a blue bin. Some blue bins contain complete mysteries and possible historic information about the extinction event(s). There have been two distinct Bone Zones discovered after 20+ years of exploration, one buried much deeper and located under the other. Were their two extinction events within a 10k or 50k year span? Some scientists and Paleontologist believe that the Megafauna remains at the Boneyard span the extinction event(s) and it has created a curiosity world-wide.
What some people don’t know is that The Boneyard Alaska sits on active gold mining property. At today’s prices — near $5,000 an ounce — John could lease or mine the gold that’s there. The economics would make sense to most people. But John isn’t most people. Before the gold is to be gotten, and he is weird for gold like most people yet he is weirder for the bones and remains that tell a story of the Ice Age event and the animals that went extinct along with it.
We find broken fragments, bison and horse teeth, and they are all sorted and saved. Whole tusks get carefully banded as soon as they expose themselves. Recovering a buried full mammoth tusk frozen in permafrost takes more time than you’d think. Weeks some times.
You would imagine the massive "Giant" nozzles spraying water would melt the frozen muck quickly. It does not. I once worked on a single large frozen boulder that had sloughed off the top of the wall for two full seasons before it got small enough for John to move it with his 966 Excavator.
That’s what this place is. The Boneyard Alaska in Fairbanks, run by my brother John Reeves and the Reeves family — one of the most significant fossil ivory recovery operations in the United States. John came to this work with an acute curiosity and a deep respect for what’s been preserved in that frozen ground. Most people never see what goes into it. Follow him on Instagram @theboneyardalaska for his latest discoveries. He’s also appeared on the Joe Rogan Experience three times — #1918, #2080, and #2271 — if you want the full story, any of them are worth a listen. You can also watch the first reveal of the Boneyard findings worldwide on the Boneyard Alaska documentary on Vimeo.
Gold country
The bones, the ivory, the story of what lived and died in this place tens of thousands of years ago. Woolly Mammoth, Steppe Bison, Dire Wolves, Ice Age Badgers, Short-Faced Bears — and species not previously known to have inhabited the area before The Boneyard’s discoveries.
Johns own carbon dating submissions and The University of Alaska Arctic Research Center and Museum has been a valuable resource in identifying the Pleistocene bones and remains recovered. That work has to happen before gold mining can, and John is in no hurry to skip it. He is more fascinated by what came out of the ice than what might be beneath it — even at $5,000 an ounce.
It starts with attention
Finding fossil ivory isn’t a dig in the traditional sense. It’s a daily practice of paying attention. Hundreds of bends, climbs, lifts, and squats in a day — checking material in the creek wall, along the bottom, washing things pulled from the water to get a better look. More often than not, what comes up is a rock or a piece of waterlogged wood. But you check anyway, because you can’t always tell.
The thumbnail test
In the field, there’s a simple way to tell ivory from wood: press your thumbnail into it. If it indents, it’s wood. If it doesn’t give at all, you look closer. That’s the moment — that small resistance under a thumbnail — where a piece of Ice Age material announces itself.
What the ground gives it
The frozen muck and biological material that has surrounded this ivory for tens of thousands of years doesn’t just preserve it — it transforms it. Tannins and minerals absorbed into the deteriorating ivory over millennia give each piece its own color and character. No two are alike. That’s not a selling point. It’s just true.
Why the lines matter
When I shape a piece, I try to work with the ivory rather than against it. The natural grain, the mineralization, the color variations built up over 12,000 to 40,000 years in the earth — those aren’t flaws to sand away. They’re the record of where this material has been. I kept the tusk lines on the heart pendant because erasing them felt wrong. They tell a story I wasn’t there for, and I didn’t want to be the one to end it.
Mammoth Magic
There’s a moment that happens when someone holds a piece of mammoth ivory for the first time and actually any time after the first. I’ve seen it enough times to believe it’s real — something shifts. You’re holding something that has outlasted everything around it. The animal it came from walked the earth before humans built cities, before written language, before almost everything we take for granted. And now it’s in your hand.
That’s what I think about when I’m working.