Contents

ABSTRACT 2

CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION 2

CHAPTER 2: NATURAL SETTING OF THE NORTHERN TIER 5

CHAPTER 3: CULTURAL CONTEXT OF THE NORTHERN TIER 29

CHAPTER 4: FIELD AND ANALYTICAL METHODS 46

CHAPTER 5: CHRONOLOGICAL CONTROLS 51

CHAPTER 6: HIGH ROCK COUNTRY SUMMARY OF FINDINGS 71

ANTHROPOLOGICAL PAPERS OF THE AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY

Number 101: 405 pp. March 11, 2016

Copyright © American Museum of Natural History 2016

ISSN 0065-9452

http://dx.doi.org/10.5531/sp.anth.0101

Prehistory of Nevada’s Northern Tier: Archaeological Investigations along the Ruby Pipeline

William Hildebrandt, Kelly McGuire, Jerome King, Allika Ruby, and D. Craig Young

Far Western Anthropological Research Group, Inc.

With Contributions by

David Rhode, Jeffrey Rosenthal, Pat Barker, Kaely Colligan, William Bloomer, Albert Garner, Nathan Stevens, Andrew Ugan, Kimberley Carpenter, Laura Brink,Sharon Waechter, Richard Hughes, Tom Origer, Sharlyn Street, and Wendy Pierce

(EPUB PART 1)

ABSTRACT

The Ruby Pipeline originates in Opal, Wyoming, travels westward across Utah and Nevada, and terminates in Malin, Oregon. Almost 360 miles of the line is in Nevada, where it crosses through some of the most remote, sparsely populated land in the lower 48 states. Despite the remote nature of this corridor, it has produced a rich archaeological record reflecting a dynamic history of land-use pattern changes over a period of at least 13,000 years.

Archaeological excavations were conducted at 578 prehistoric sites prior to construction of the pipeline. The sites were distributed across four ecological regions, including (from west to east): the High Rock Country, Upper Lahontan Basin, Upper Humboldt Plains, and Thousand Springs Valley. First evidence of human occupation dates to the Paleoindian (14,500–12,800 cal b.p.) and Paleoarchaic (12,800–7800 cal b.p.) periods, when people spent most of their time in the High Rock Country where important economic resources reached their highest densities. Paleoindian findings are limited to a series of Great Basin Concave Base projectile points and small obsidian flaked stone concentrations. Paleoarchaic sites are much more common, and tend to be represented by Great Basin Stemmed projectile points, bifaces, and a limited number of other flaked stone tools. Most of these assemblages reflect small groups of hunters refurbishing their tool kits as they traveled through the area. An important exception to this pattern was found at Five Mile Flat along the west end of pluvial Lake Parman where two significant habitation sites dating to 11,180 cal b.p. were discovered. One of these sites includes a house floor, which is the oldest ever found in the Great Basin.

Despite the warm-dry conditions that characterized much of the middle Holocene, it appears that human populations nearly doubled during the Post-Mazama Period (7800–5700 cal b.p.). Most activity remained concentrated in the High Rock Country, but evidence for occupation begins to trickle out into the Upper Lahontan Basin and Upper Humboldt Plains regions as well. Most of the artifact assemblages remain rather narrow, often composed of Northern Side-notched and Humboldt Concave Base points, bifaces, and debitage, and reflect use of the region by mobile groups of hunters.

Major changes took place with the arrival of the Early Archaic (5700–3800 cal b.p.) and continued forward into the Middle Archaic Period (3800–1300 cal b.p.). Early Archaic projectile points are largely represented by Humboldt and Gatecliff forms. It appears that population densities increased almost fourfold from the preceding interval, and all four regions experienced significant occupation for the first time. Simultaneous to this population increase and dispersal, a full complement of site types began to emerge, with large-scale residential areas becoming significant for the first time. This trend continued forward into the Middle Archaic Period where the relative frequency of residential sites almost doubled compared with the Early Archaic interval. Plant macrofossil and archaeofaunal assemblages also become more abundant and diversified at this time, probably marking a broadening of the diet breadth.

This general trajectory extends into the Late Archaic (1300–600 cal b.p.) and Terminal Prehistoric periods, as people continued to expand into a wider range of habitats. This was particularly case for the latter interval, as the habitat preferences that made sense for over 12,000 years were upended, with population densities highest in the Upper Humboldt Plains and Thousand Springs Valley. This reorientation corresponds to the arrival of Numic speaking populations, especially the Western Shoshone who appear to have reached northern Nevada much earlier than the Northern Paiute, and is probably linked to a greater emphasis on small-seeded plants that are abundantly present in their territory. Although low ranked compared to many other foods, with the proper technology and work organization, small seeds could support higher population densities than was the case earlier in time. Finally, the discovery of obsidian in multiple Terminal Prehistoric sites from sources located much further away than any other time in the past may signal the earliest use of horses in northern Nevada.

CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION

William Hildebrandt

This study is the outcome of archaeological excavations that took place as part of the Ruby Pipeline Project. The Ruby Pipeline originates in Opal, Wyoming, travels westward across Utah and Nevada, and terminates in Malin, Oregon, where it meets the Pacific Gas transmission line (fig. 1). It is a 42″ diameter pipe used to transport natural gas, and required more than 4000 people to construct during a 12 month period in 2010 and 2011. Almost 360 miles of the line crosses the Northern Tier of Nevada, where it traverses some of the most remote, sparsely populated land in the lower 48 states. Despite the low number of people living here today, it contains a vibrant archaeological record reflecting a dynamic history of land-use pattern changes over a period of at least 13,000 years. This volume summarizes the prehistoric archaeological record discovered along the Nevada segment of the project.

Fig. 1. Ruby Pipeline corridor.

Intensive archaeological survey of the pipeline corridor and associated facilities resulted in the recording of 916 prehistoric sites, 578 of which required data recovery due to the significant nature of their surface assemblages. Most of the data recovery fieldwork occurred between August 2010 and February 2011, and was accomplished with the help of many local Native American people who served as monitors and archaeological technicians.

The scope of the archaeological record produced by this study is truly remarkable, as every significant prehistoric site along the corridor was surface collected and excavated using the same set of methods. This effort produced what is essentially a 100% sample of the 360 mile corridor, allowing us to study the character and intensity of human activity across vast spans of space and time with levels of precision rarely seen before.

Four general ecological regions are traversed by the corridor, including the High Rock Country, Upper Lahontan Basin, Upper Humboldt Plains, and Thousand Springs Valley (fig. 2). None of these regions have significant stands of pinyon, major watercourses, or extensive wetland areas. Despite the lack of these habitats, which were so critical to ethnographic groups living in the more southerly, core areas of the Great Basin, the project corridor was used by many people throughout the prehistoric past. These occupations were not constant, however. Instead, they occurred in pulses, their intensity based on local habitat productivity as well as demographic processes that took place in adjacent, more productive areas where long-term habitation was more common.

Fig. 2. Nevada segment of the Ruby Pipeline corridor and its relationship to the High Rock Country, Upper Lahontan Basin, Upper Humboldt Plains, and Thousand Springs Valley.

Beginning in the Paleoarchaic Period (12,800–7800 cal b.p.), for example, people made extensive use of many of the obsidian quarries located in the High Rock Country and established settlements at Five Mile Flat, focusing on wetland habitats along the shore of pluvial Lake Parman. Investigations at one of these settlements revealed the oldest house floor ever found in the Great Basin, radiocarbon dated to 11,200 cal b.p.

Populations remained relatively low in the middle Holocene but expanded significantly after about 4500 cal b.p., using the High Rock obsidian quarries like never before and establishing seasonal residential bases in a broader range of habitats. This more intensive use of the landscape first focused on the harvest of root crops, especially epos (yampah) along the western end of the corridor, but ultimately included small-seeded foods found farther to the east. The process of intensification culminated with the arrival of Numic populations at around 500 cal b.p., where the archaeological record indicates that the Western Shoshone arrived in northern Nevada significantly earlier than the Northern Paiute. These findings also explain why the Western Shoshone used pottery and the Northern Paiute did not, and show how the introduction of the horse may have created interaction spheres of unprecedented proportions, evidenced by the presence of obsidian from exotic sources never used before.

Volume Organization

After this Introduction, chapter 2 (Natural Setting of the Northern Tier) provides a detailed account of the four regions outlined above. Each of these regions is distinguished by its unique mix of important landform types, tool-stone quarry zones, climate, plant and animal communities, and resulting economic potential. Because of the great time depth of the archaeological record discovered during the current project, paleoenvironmental reconstructions are also presented in chapter 2, based on the existing literature and packrat midden data obtained during the fieldwork. These reconstructions provide insight into how environmental changes affected the availability of subsistence resources along different segments of the corridor and influenced the land-use patterns we observe in the archaeological record.

Chapter 3 (Cultural Context of the Northern Tier) presents a comprehensive review of northern Great Basin prehistory, highlighting some of the outstanding research issues that can be addressed by this study. It also develops a cultural-historical sequence for the corridor that is used to organize the single component assemblages generated during the project. The ethnographic records of the Northern Paiute and Western Shoshone are then reviewed to develop a better understanding of what day-to-day life was like for these people, thereby enhancing our ability to interpret the archaeological record.

All the field and analytical methods used during the study are summarized in chapter 4 (Field and Analytical Methods). Chapter 5 (Chronological Controls) details the chronological data generated by the project, including radiocarbon dates, time-sensitive artifacts (i.e., projectile points, crescents, pottery, beads), and source-specific obsidian hydration readings. Based on associations between hydration rim measurements and radiocarbon dates, and rim measurements on temporally diagnostic projectile points, hydration rates are developed for each major obsidian source. These are crucial, as they are used to date many of the project assemblages.

The archaeological records of the four regions are summarized in chapters 6 through 9. These summaries include chronological overviews, detailing every temporal indicator recovered and how they were used to identify single-component assemblages. Each assemblage is then described, including artifacts, features, and subsistence remains, along with brief interpretive statements about how these findings reflect generalized land-use pattern changes over time.

Most of the basic archaeological reporting requirements are covered by the four regional summaries, where we emphasize description rather than interpretation. The remainder of the report, however, is more interpretive in character and focuses on a series of research themes that can be addressed with the data at hand. We begin with the colonization of northern Nevada (chapter 10), where our robust collection of chronological indicators is used to monitor how the project corridor was initially colonized and ultimately filled in over time. This process of settlement was largely consistent with expectations of Ideal Free Distribution modeling until the end of the sequence, when Numic speakers arrived in the area and radically altered the previous trajectory of settlement. It appears that this disjunction was due to the different subsistence technologies and social organization used by the Numa, which changed the perception, ranking, and use of local environments, creating a pattern of land use never seen before in the region.

Chapter 11 (Flaked Stone Production Patterns) documents how quarrying and subsequent tool production strategies changed over time. Most of these changes were due to reduced access to important tool-stone sources as people filled in the corridor over the millennia, as well as the use of alternative stoneworking techniques late in time, perhaps linked to the introduction of bow-and-arrow technology. Chapter 12 (Trans-Holocene Subsistence-Settlement Change in Northern Nevada) reviews the artifact assemblages, features, and subsistence remains, all of which are used to chronicle the dynamic nature of the trans-Holocene economic systems operating along the Northern Tier. Root crops, especially epos, played an important role in these systems. Chapter 13 (The Archaeological Correlates and Evolution of Geophyte Procurement in the Northwestern Great Basin) addresses this issue, giving particular focus to the western end of the High Rock Country, where root gathering was important deep into antiquity and remains an active enterprise among Native peoples there today.

Chapter 14 (Obsidian Conveyance Patterns) details the distance each time-sensitive obsidian projectile point traveled before it was deposited in the archaeological record. This analysis is also applied to every obsidian debitage assemblage subjected to geochemical sourcing and hydration analysis. The results are consistent with previous studies, showing great conveyance distances early in the Holocene, which are traditionally thought to reflect high levels of residential mobility, and decreasing distances later in time due to increased population densities and smaller territorial ranges. Surprisingly, however, conveyance distances soared during the most recent, Terminal Prehistoric Period, reaching levels much higher than any other interval in the prehistoric past. As mentioned above, we argue that this strange finding probably reflects the introduction of the horse to Native peoples living along the Northern Tier during the late 1600s, which served to expand their interregional exchange networks at that time.

Chapter 15 (Northern Paiute, Western Shoshone, and the Numic Expansion) evaluates cultural-historical differences between the two groups, giving particular emphasis to an explanation of why the Western Shoshone used pottery and the Northern Paiute did not, as well as exploring differences in their migration rates and arrival times in northern Nevada. We end this chapter with a more detailed discussion of the ethnohistoric use of the horse along the Northern Tier and its possible influence on the Late Period archaeological record we encountered.

The final thematic chapter, chapter 16 (Numic Use of Wooden Pronghorn Enclosures), focuses on a series of antelope traps located in Thousand Springs Valley. It provides detailed topographic mapping, photographs, and radiocarbon dating of the ancient juniper structures and reviews the larger archaeological context in which they are found. Chapter 17 (Summary and Conclusions) brings the report to a close with a summary of the major findings of the project, highlighting future research directions that could be followed based on these findings. Finally, detailed analytical data are provided in a series of appendices (see Hildebrandt et al., 2015).

CHAPTER 2: NATURAL SETTING OF THE NORTHERN TIER

As might be expected over such a long study transect, there is regional variation in climate, physiography, hydrology, geology, and geomorphology, as well as plant and animal habitats, all of which affected prehistoric human land use. From west to east, we divide the study corridor into four primary regions—High Rock Country, Upper Lahontan Basin, Upper Humboldt Plains, and Thousand Springs Valley—by reference to a series of previously developed “ecoregions” that “denote areas of general similarity in ecosystems and the type, quality, and quantity of environmental resources” and that consider both “biotic and abiotic phenomena, including geology, physiography, vegetation, climate, soils, land use, wildlife, and hydrology” (Bryce et al., 2003). Thirteen such ecoregions are recognized within the study area. Our four project regions were determined by considering both the extent and the boundaries of the dominant ecoregions represented in the study corridor (see fig. 2).

In this chapter, we first review the geomorphic setting of the study corridor using a local landform typology applicable to all regions. We then address the modern climatic regime that, although fairly uniform, is influenced by topography, west-to-east variation in seasonal precipitation and temperature, and long-term quasi-cyclic variations. The resulting floristic regimes and plant communities are described by region. We then review the subsistence base, identifying those specific plant and animal taxa of economic importance to ethnographic and prehistoric peoples. The chapter concludes with a summary of Northern Tier paleoenvironments over the past 15,000 years that is synchronized to the extent possible with the major phases of prehistoric occupation identified in the study area (see chap. 3).

The Geomorphic Setting of the Northern Tier

D. Craig Young

Although formed on ancient basement rocks, the Northern Tier is a relatively young and dynamic landscape. This is especially true along the drainages, playa margins, and broad valleys between the uplifted mountains and plateaus. While the broad array of both ancient and more recent landscape features varies from region to region, more localized landform types are common to all regions found along the study corridor. As such, we first develop a local landform typology that describes the late Pleistocene–Holocene geomorphic structure of erosional, depositional, and stable landforms across the region. The typology works particularly well along the study corridor because, in most cases, the east-west corridor strikes perpendicular to the mountain ranges and drainage basins of the Northern Tier. Combined with additional discussion of the physiographic, geologic, and hydrologic context of the study area, we then use this typology to characterize each of the study corridor’s four regions.

Landform Typology

The typology recognizes five primary geomorphic settings: volcanic plateau, midland drainage, lowland basin, basin margin, and uplands (fig. 3). In turn, each setting is further divided into a series of landforms. Thus, for example, the lowland basin setting is subdivided into the following landforms: inset fans, playa, axial drainage, distal fan, dunes, and medial fan. The regions often correspond closely to the geomorphic settings for long stretches of the study corridor. For example, much of the High Rock Country is composed of volcanic plateau, and the Upper Lahontan Basin is the epitome of a lowland basin setting in northern Nevada. However, each of the four regions encompasses settings and landforms of each type. Figure 4 provides both a planimetric and an elevational profile of the five primary geomorphic settings across the project area.

Fig. 3. Schematic model of major landforms of Nevada’s Northern Tier.

Fig. 4. An elevation profile, landforms, and landmarks by ecological region along the project corridor.

The settings, along with the landforms within each setting, allow archaeological investigators to evaluate and understand the geomorphic processes that might most affect the distribution, integrity, and preservation of archaeological components at specific sites. Landform characterization may also provide clues to the suite of resources that might have been locally available during the time of site use. Provided below is an overview of each of the five primary geomorphic settings.

Volcanic plateau: The volcanic plateau of northwestern Nevada consists of block-faulted basaltic and rhyolitic rocks laid down during a period of expansive volcanism in the middle to late Tertiary period, 26 to 6 mya (fig. 5). The broad tablelands are creased with faulted rimrocks and escarpments and are incised by dendritic or trellised drainages that follow breaks in the plateau to move toward adjacent lowland basins. In northwestern Nevada, rhyolitic rocks, interbedded with expansive ash-flow tuffs (Harvey et al., 1986; Hughes, 1986; Rytuba, 1989; Young, 2000) are slightly older and typically stratigraphically below the basalt flows. In places, the basalt forms minor cap rocks above the rhyolitic rocks, suggesting that some of the upper stratigraphy of basaltic rocks has been removed by erosion following recent uplift and faulting.

Fig. 5. The volcanic plateau of Barrel Springs, High Rock Country.

The lowland basin of Massacre Lake and the drainages of Badger and Fish creeks, basically the route of State Highway 8A, mark a relatively distinct boundary between the basalt and rhyolite on the volcanic plateau. Northwest of Massacre Lake, basalt rocks cap faulted blocks that form the west-facing Massacre Rim and east-facing Mosquito Rim. These features provide dramatic relief, rising hundreds of meters above the intervening basin of Long Valley. The rhyolitic plateau, southeast of the Massacre Basin, tends to have gentler relief but is still punctuated by basalt caps, rhyolitic cliffs, and rimrock. Drainages form deep-cut canyons and occasionally spread upstream in dendritic patterns exposing underlying, light-colored ash-flow tuffs and tuffaceous sedimentary rocks. Archaeologically important obsidians, extruded during Miocene eruptions (Harvey et al., 1986), tend to be correlated with the regional distribution of rhyolitic rocks and ash flows. Obsidians of the Massacre Lake/Guano Valley, Coyote Spring, and Nut Mountain localities are Tertiary-age extrusions that have been widely dispersed as lag cobbles and gravels over millennia of uplift and erosion (fig. 6). A few isolated but distinct sources, such as the obsidians of Badger and Craine creeks, are also ancient extrusions, but they are confined to narrow canyons and relatively discrete drainage systems.

Fig. 6. Major lithic sources within and adjacent to the project corridor.

The stratigraphic profiles of Quaternary-age and archaeologically significant deposits on the volcanic plateau consist of shallow loess sheets on in situ clay-rich sediment formed by weathering of the local volcanic bedrock. The loess consists of aeolian deposited silt derived from desiccated pluvial lake basins. It can form some deep, dunelike landforms where reworking has been minimal, but the silts are typically shallow remnants that have yet to be reconfigured by slope wash. Sometimes capped by silty loess or exposed by slope wash, lithosols form as the volcanic bedrock decomposes via physical and chemical weathering. The soils began developing in the Pleistocene and form well-developed AB horizons directly on the slowly eroding volcanic rocks. Clayey B horizons are common signals of local in situ soil formation.

Rimrocks and outcrops of the volcanic plateau are generally stable, rocky surfaces commonly exposed across the northwestern Nevada landscape. Loess-capped tablelands dominate the volcanic plateau setting. Since the loess deposition of the early Holocene, the tableland landforms have been generally stable. Soil development can be very mature, as evinced by thick, clay-rich lithosols. The loess has been eroding via slope wash since the middle Holocene, but the lithosols have continued to form. As slope wash is organized along creases in the tablelands, plateau drainages form. The drainages store fine-grained sediments removed from local slopes in small terraces along drainage courses within canyons, and few of the canyons are steep sided and deep. Where the volcanic tablelands are formed in ash-flow tuffs, plateau drainages can become complex dendritic systems. Unlike midland drainages, which some eventually join, plateau drainages of the volcanic plateau lack alluvial fans along the drainage margins; their margins are limited to narrow terraces. However, the narrow terraces may hold buried archaeological components.

Midland drainages: Although the environment of the Northern Tier is a product of generally arid conditions of the Great Basin, water remains the dominant erosional and depositional force. Seasonal precipitation and episodic, but intense summer storms deliver water to slopes and recharge the local and regional groundwater systems. Midland drainages form where flows become organized into main-stem creeks and streams above the highest strandlines marking lowland basins of regional pluvial lakes (fig. 7). These drainages are typically well-organized, high-order drainages above 5000 feet in elevation. Midland drainage settings can occur in all rock types across the Northern Tier, and most mountain ranges will have drainages that could be described as such. For example, midland drainage settings dominate the Upper Humboldt Plains region. The upper tributaries of the Humboldt River cutting through Tertiary-age sedimentary rocks traverse this region. The streams have regular dendritic tributaries feeding main-stem systems, such as Willow and Rock creeks.

Fig. 7. Midland drainage landforms in the Black Rock Range, High Rock Country.

Perennial midland drainages generally have complex terrace systems carved into the sedimentary rocks that form the local valleys. The small alluvial fans and deep terraces store Holocene-age sediments at the margins of the drainages. Here, archaeological components may be deeply buried. The integrity of archaeological components on and in the small fans can vary greatly due to erosional and depositional dynamics. Proximal fans—that is, those at the mountain front—are generally cobble strewn and deeply incised. Remnant lobes extending from the mountain front have strongly developed, Pleistocene-age soils and retain an archaeological record, where present, in surface contexts only. The distal segments of the fans lap onto streamside terraces. The Mazama tephra, deposited as ashfall from a series of climactic eruptions of Mount Mazama (Crater Lake, Oregon) at approximately 7600 cal b.p. (Hallet et al., 1997; Grayson, 2011: 61), is often a prominent bed in Holocene-age fan units and within the stratigraphic profiles of terrace cuts. Immediately after the eruption, the tephra draped much of the northern Nevada landscape; however, the fine-grained volcanic ash did not remain on the landscape for long (but see Miller et al., 2004). Slope wash from seasonal storms pushed the tephra into the drainage systems where it piled as deep stratigraphic units. Terraces along Center and Maggie creeks, for example, more than 170 miles apart, contain tephra deposits that grade upward from clean, near-primary ashfall strata to dirty, secondary beds up to several meters thick. In any case, the initial deposition of the tephra provides a critical time marker in the depositional and archaeological sequences in the region. The drainage terraces also preserve soil horizons that may provide clues to the age of the drainage system. Soils may also retain residues useful for documenting local environmental conditions influencing vegetation communities and general resource productivity.

There are six landforms common to midland drainage settings: Midland slopes are generally the headward or proximal segments of small alluvial fans emanating from local hills. These erosional slopes transition to midland fans, the distal fan segments of recent sediment deposition. The fans terminate at the tributary drainage, forming the foundation of the geomorphic setting; that is, all processes lead to the drainage focus. The tributaries can be relatively minor, low-order streams (few upstream tributaries or feeders) coming from adjacent uplands, or they can be large, high-order streams (many feeders) with large meanders and complex terraces. The drainages may be bounded by one or more terraces and many are deeply incised such that the level terraces stand along prominent modern arroyos. The terraces typically retain deep, Holocene-age depositional units but also preserve the complex changes (erosion, deposition, and stability) unique to the drainage. Above the drainages, stable hills give way to locally expansive pediments forming generally stable surfaces.

Lowland basins: The lowland basins of the Northern Tier encompass expansive bottomlands of former pluvial lakes (fig. 8). From east to west the pluvial lake basins include Bonneville, Lahontan, Parman, and Meinzer. Thousand Springs Valley in northern Elko County and the Red House Flat area of eastern Humboldt County are nonpluvial lowland basins along the study corridor; these lack a central defining playa but exhibit alluvial fan segments and minor dune systems common to the lake basins. Because the setting was influenced by pluvial lake desiccation, lowland basins contain the youngest and most active landforms along the project corridor. Although not necessarily synchronous in pluvial lake settings across the northern Great Basin, the latest maximum high stands generally date to about 15,000 cal b.p. (Benson, 2004; Grayson, 2011). With the exception of older outcrops that rise from the bottomlands, basin landforms postdate the latest pluvial high stand of the Late Pleistocene. Sedimentary deposits associated with the expansive pluvial lakes, including beaches, bars, and deltas, have been rearranged throughout the Holocene via the churning waters of fluctuating postpluvial lakes, fan progradation below high stands, and extensive aeolian reworking. These episodic shallow lakes and undulating dunes created a mosaic of resource-rich environments attractive to prehistoric peoples (Young, 2000). In many places, the chronology and structure of the lowland basin archaeological record provide significant information regarding the geomorphic history of a particular basin.

Fig. 8. The lowland basin of Long Valley, High Rock Country.

Six primary landforms are identified in the lowland basin settings: Inset fans extend basinward from below the high-stand strandlines. These typically small fans have formed since the late Pleistocene high stand and are typically inset into older, more extensive alluvial fans of the basin margin setting. The fans are Holocene depositional environments, but surface ages can be quite variable, and they can lap onto the former lake bed. On particularly active slopes, former strandlines may have been completely erased by large fans intruding into the desiccated basin. Although the proximal portion of these large fans defines the basin margin setting (see next section), the medial and distal fan segments are generally Holocene-age landforms that extend toward the valley bottoms. The surface ages vary locally, but the fine sediments that comprise these fan segments can bury archaeological deposits.

Sediments reworked from desiccated lake beds and former lake features (e.g., beaches, bars, and deltas) are commonly deposited as complex, lowland basin dunes. The silt and sand dunes can rest on fans or sit at playa margins. Where river systems act as efficient conveyors of parent material (i.e., alluvial and fluvial sands), the dune systems can be quite extensive. The Winnemucca dune field, for example, is likely derived from a paleodelta of the Humboldt River (Davis, 1982: 59). These dunes have now overtaken and coalesced with smaller dune systems of the Little Humboldt River in Paradise Valley. Silt dunes form in bottomlands in arcuate or linear patterns along rapidly fluctuating Holocene-age and modern lakes. Lake beds churned by the episodic lakes provide parent material for the lakeside dunes. The arcuate dunes of the northern Great Basin, such as those in Long Valley, appear to be pre-Mazama (pre-7600 cal b.p.) in age (Young, 2000) and have been deflating since their early Holocene formation. In general, the dunes of the lowland basins are Holocene in age and may contain significant stratified deposits with considerable archaeological depth. These dynamic environments, however, can compromise archaeological integrity via reworking, erosion, and deflation, thereby creating deflated archaeological materials from multiple time periods lying within small blowouts and basins. These artifact aggregations can themselves be subsequently buried and appear as an “intact” subsurface record.

The defining landforms of the lowland basin across the Northern Tier are the vast open playas or now-dry lake beds of the pluvial lakes. The playas are generally erosional landforms subject to aeolian deflation since the desiccation of the lakes. Local playas can become segmented as smaller, internal lake basins form or as fans intrude onto desiccated surfaces. The small lakes can be surrounded by silt-cored dunes and the fans can become depositional focal points for sand dunes and loess (silt) sheets. These processes introduce topographic irregularities to the playa margins and add to the varied landscapes of the lowland basin bottomlands. Where lake pulses are not common, the playas can become vegetated. The vegetation, in turn, entraps windblown sediment to form transient coppice dune accumulations that can coalesce to form extensive sheets, or they can just as easily deflate as deposition shifts farther downwind. The archaeological record of playas and their marginal coppice and dune systems is inherently complicated by these dynamics.

As the pluvial lakes dried, feeder streams continued their seasonal flows toward ever more distant termini. Today these form axial drainages that traverse the lowland basins, sometimes cutting deep arroyos into the former lake beds. The Humboldt, Little Humboldt, and Quinn rivers are dominant axial drainages of the Northern Tier’s lowland basins.

Basin margins: Above the pluvial high-stand strandlines are the basin margin settings, composed of expansive alluvial fans and coalesced bajadas (fig. 9). The fans emanate from the mountain fronts that bound the valleys of the Northern Tier. The basin margin fans are typically Pleistocene in age and bury much older fan and bedrock surfaces. Because deposition has shifted basinward during the late Pleistocene and on through the Holocene, most of the basin margin fans form relatively stable surfaces with strong Pleistocene-age soil profiles. Headward drainage cuts typically extend all the way to the mountain front and may be deeply incised. This isolates the fan surfaces from the alluvial depositional and erosional system, though aeolian processes may introduce fine-grained sediment to the fan surface. These aeolian deposits are generally shallow and are soon incorporated into the soil profile.

Fig. 9. Landforms of the Owyhee Bluffs, a basin margin setting.

The most extensive Pleistocene-age basin margin fans along the study corridor are found above the strandlines of the Bonneville and Lahontan basins. The fans were deposited above lake level under well-watered pluvial environmental conditions. During the Holocene, fan progradation has generally extended farther basinward. The fans of the Osgood and Hot Spring mountains and Santa Rosa Range exemplify the basin margin setting along the study corridor.

The landforms of the basin margin consist of rock-strewn proximal fans or bajadas with a shallow stratigraphy encompassing archaeological components. Fine-grained loess and sand sheets may cap the ancient fan surfaces, but this capping stratum is typically underlain by a gravelly to cobbly, well-weathered and generally stable landform. The stable landform may have a strongly developed soil profile, usually consisting of a shallow A horizon over a strong, clay-rich or oxidized B horizon. Soils form slowly in arid environments in general, so the well-developed soils of the proximal fans provide evidence of long-term landform stability. Upslope, the basin margin may transition into pediments or colluvial slopes. A pediment may develop as long-term erosion forms a broadly beveled surface with little or very shallow sedimentary deposit. The underlying strata may be tilted at varying angles to the landform surface as erosion cuts across the structural geometry of the local bedrock. Adjacent to uplands cliffs and outcrops, colluvial features such as talus cones and wedges may extend into the Basin Margin. Archaeological deposits are not common in the gravity-fed colluvial settings.

Uplands: The study corridor tends to avoid the high-elevation segments of the region’s mountain ranges. Nevertheless, upland environments are prevalent on midelevation summits and ridgelines that extend from the area’s highpoints (fig. 10). These settings, at the scale of our study, are limited to the mountain ranges of Elko County in northeastern Nevada. The mountain ranges of Elko County are built on some of the oldest rock units in the state. Cambrian to Devonian cherts and quartzites, at least 400 million years old, rise in the Snake Range, while the Independence Range is built on Ordovician cherts and limestones, also more than 400 million years old. Permian limestone and Devonian shales comprise the uplands along the Nevada-Utah border where tool-stone-quality cryptocrystalline silicate (CCS) sources outcrop.

Fig. 10. Upland landforms.

The rocky uplands typically have shallow sedimentary profiles, as most of the landforms are erosional or have been stable through the Pleistocene and Holocene. Cliffs and outcrops are the prominent landforms in the uplands. Stable upland surfaces connect the outcropping rock units. These may have shallow, well-developed soils, but surficial sediments will be shallow and strewn with gravel or cobbles. Archaeological components of all ages may be found on the surfaces of upland landforms.

Geomorphic Settings of the Four Project Regions

A general congruence exists between the four project regions and geomorphic setting. For example, the foundation of the High Rock Country is the volcanic plateau; the Upper Lahontan Basin corresponds, obviously, to a lowland basin. Locally, however, each region contains landforms and settings from all points of the landform typology. Here, we tour the four project regions, highlighting the specific settings along the project corridor.

High Rock Country: Volcanic plateaus and midland drainages, with rimrocks along trellised streams, are typical of the High Rock Country. Between volcanic outcrops and sharp cliff faces, shallow lithosols cap the generally level tablelands. Archaeological sites typically rest on or in the near-surface stratigraphy of these relatively old surfaces. Of course, long-term erosion and local deflation contribute wind-borne dust and alluvial sediment that eventually washes into plateau drainages. The youngest landforms, narrow streamside terraces and small fans, are found on this volcanic landscape.

In northwestern Nevada’s High Rock Country, the study corridor traverses the volcanic plateau of the Barrel Springs tablelands, where basalt flows are cut by shallowly incised drainages. Faulted rimrocks of exposed bedrock and stable tablelands capped by shallow but strongly developed lithosols dominate the Barrel Springs landscape between Twelvemile Creek at the Nevada-Oregon border and the northern rim of Long Valley. The basalts of Barrel Springs cap slightly older rhyolitic rocks and, where exposed in cuts and local outcrops, the geologic contact reveals obsidian nodules of the Cowhead Lake and Mosquito Lake sources. These gravel- to cobble-sized nodules are spread as lag in drainages and on locally stable tablelands.

Although the Lahontan Basin dominates the northwestern Nevada landscape, smaller pluvial lakes inundated intervening valleys in the High Rock Country, including Lake Meinzer in Long Valley. The high-stand shoreline of Lake Meinzer reached approximately 5800 feet in elevation (Mifflin and Wheat, 1979: 54; Orme, 2008). The study corridor drops into Long Valley, crossing inset fans below the high-stand strandline, and soon traverses the valley-bottom playa and arcuate dune system formed on the desiccated lake bed. The pluvial history of Lake Meinzer is likely similar to that of well-studied Lake Lahontan. However, pluvial lakes in southern Oregon, such as Lake Chewaucan and Lake Alvord, are somewhat different; there, the chronology of pluvial high stands lags behind that documented in Lake Lahontan, and the Younger Dryas transgression (lake-level rise) has not been documented (Grayson, 2011: 109–112). Lake Meinzer lacks the overall complexity of the multibasin Lake Lahontan, with its many rivers fed by Sierran runoff; thus, the late pluvial history of Meinzer may in fact be more comparable to the northern lakes. At its high stand, Lake Meinzer exceeded the boundaries of Long Valley to coalesce with the Massacre Lake Basin to the east; together the two basins encompass several lowland basin landforms.

The lowland basins of Long Valley and Massacre Lake are connected via a narrow sill north of Painted Rock. It is likely that the smaller Massacre Lake would fill first and then overflow at an elevation of ~5645 ft. There is a prominent strandline in the Massacre Lake Basin that marks this stillstand, outflow level. Lake Meinzer in Long Valley, a much larger basin responding to similar precipitation and groundwater inputs, would be rising more slowly and it may have taken some time for the two lakes to coalesce. As lake regression began, probably soon after 15,000 years ago, the shallow Massacre Lake Basin may have desiccated in a relatively short time. Given the relatively small drainage net surrounding Long Valley, it is likely that the shrinking Lake Meinzer did not last much longer. The first people in the region may have encountered the last remnants of pluvial Lake Meinzer in Long Valley.

Prior to the deposition of the Mazama tephra, small and fluctuating lakes in the basin bottoms encouraged the formation of arcuate silt dunes, and the basins soon took their modern form as segmented lakes and dunes surrounded by encroaching fans. Aeolian silt or loess deposits on the surrounding plateaus, which choke some midland drainage systems farther east, are derived from scouring of the newly dry lake bed. Holocene lakes may have filled the Massacre Lake Basin enough to overflow to Long Valley, especially during the neopluvial episode of the late middle Holocene (the Early and Middle Archaic) between 5000 and 2500 years ago. Based on radiocarbon-dated archaeological components in the Massacre Basin, the lake has remained below the 1722 m strandline since about 2500 cal b.p.

East of the Massacre Lake Basin, the study corridor traverses the heart of High Rock Country. Rhyolitic rocks and ash-flow tuffs form a broad volcanic plateau extending from the Massacre Lake Basin eastward to Fivemile Flat and Summit Lake (Parman Basin). This expanse is cut by a midland drainage setting at Wall Canyon Creek where a deep, Holocene-age terrace system bounds a deeply incised arroyo. Smaller plateau drainages are common across the plateau, as are stable tablelands and rocky outcrops. Nut Mountain is the highpoint between Massacre and Wall Canyon. Here, expansive deposits of obsidian nodules rest as lag on Tertiary-age surfaces and have been incorporated into the deposits of the plateau drainage systems. Other obsidian sources, such as the wide-ranging Coyote Spring, Massacre Lake/Guano Valley, and Nut Mountain source areas, illustrate the dispersed pattern of tool-stone-quality lag deposits.

The lowland basin of Fivemile Flat marks the eastern extent of the volcanic plateau setting along the study corridor. Once inundated by pluvial Lake Parman, Fivemile Flat encompasses vegetated playas and inset fans. Lake Parman reached a maximum elevation of about 5857 ft, at which point it overflowed into the Alvord Basin via Virgin Creek (Mifflin and Wheat, 1979: 31). When at this sill, the lake was approximately four meters deep in Fivemile Flat, either expanding from or joining with the slightly larger lake in the basin of modern Summit Lake. A lake of this size would be highly susceptible to local variations in input, and the shallow basin likely supported extensive wetlands (Layton, 1979). Like pluvial Lake Meinzer, whose drainage system is at about the same latitude, the history of Lake Parman is not well documented. It likely reached its maximum extent at about 15,000 years ago, receiving direct input from its rather limited drainage net. Because Lake Parman (Fivemile Flat) has a natural outlet and was a relatively shallow pluvial lake, its high-stand elevation may have been maintained for relatively long periods. On the other hand, shallow basins desiccate quickly once the sill level cannot be maintained. Early sites on the margins of the Parman Basin (Layton, 1979; Smith, 2006; and herein) suggest that runoff within the local basin was enough to maintain productive wetland environments into the early Holocene.

East of Fivemile Flat and Summit Lake, the structure of the Basin and Range province shifts from regular fault-block tablelands to uplifted mountain ranges and intervening valleys. The Pine Forest and Black Rock Range rise above the volcanic plateau, and the eastern High Rock Country becomes a series of midland drainages coursing through stable hills and small fan systems. Hillsides cut into rhyolitic rocks expose relatively localized obsidian deposits on slopes, and redeposited obsidian nodules are common in the midland drainage alluvium. The midland slopes and short midland fans in the canyons of Idaho Canyon and Craine creeks form the upper tributaries draining the northern extent of the Black Rock Range. Craine, Center, and Cove creeks cut through deep terraces filled with Holocene-age sediment including basal layers consisting of the Mount Mazama tephra. Above the tephra, archaeological components of the middle Holocene (Post-Mazama and Early and Middle Archaic) are often buried.

The High Rock Country transitions to the Upper Lahontan Basin at the foot of the basin margin landforms on the eastern front of the southern Pine Forest Range. Large erosional pediments transition to coalesced fans that extend to the margins of the Leonard Creek embayment of the northern Black Rock Desert.

Upper Lahontan Basin: The lowland basin setting of pluvial Lake Lahontan dominates the northern-tier landscape and is generally congruent with the Upper Lahontan Basin. As the study corridor drops from mountain ranges on the western margin of the Black Rock Desert, it traverses inset fans and playa margin dunes below lake strandlines that reach to approximately 4380 ft in elevation. Understanding the late Pleistocene and Holocene history of Lake Lahontan, including the fluvial and deltaic landforms of the Quinn River (the lake’s northern feeder stream), is important for understanding the early colonization of northern Nevada.

Lake Lahontan likely reached its late Pleistocene high stand for a brief period at about 17,600 years ago (Benson et al., 1990; Adams and Wesnousky, 1999; Benson, 2004; Adams et al., 2008; Grayson, 2011). The duration of the high stand is unclear, but by 15,700 cal b.p., the lake was retreating from its maximum. By 14,500 years ago, the lake had dried to such an extent that the Black Rock Desert and Quinn River Basin was isolated, as it has been for much of the Holocene, from Sierran connections via the Pyramid Lake and Honey Lake subbasins. At around 12,600 years ago, however, the lake in the Black Rock subbasin was likely rising again, due to renewed input from the Quinn River in response to increased precipitation of the early Younger Dryas cycle. The extent of the Younger Dryas lake in the Black Rock subbasin at this time remains unclear and, in any case, the shoreline of the Younger Dryas lake remained south of the study corridor. To further complicate these scenarios, Davis (1982) and Benson and Peterman (1996) show that the Humboldt River had a connection to the Black Rock sometime after 15,000 years ago. The Winnemucca dune field, derived from reworked alluvium and delta sediment, is secondary evidence of this fluvial system that would have fed the Quinn River via the Pronto sill (near Jungo, Nevada) and on through Desert Valley.

The study corridor then traverses vegetated and coppiced playa surfaces formed of remnant lake-bed sediments above the highest Younger Dryas levels before intersecting the axial drainage of the Quinn River. The river cuts a floodplain and terrace system in the east arm of the Black Rock Desert, but it is often limited to only seasonal drainage across much of the study area. The corridor then parallels the Quinn River across stream-terraced playas and occasional dunes from the toe of the Jackson Mountains, with its narrow basin-margin fans, through Desert Valley and Silver State Valley. Across the expansive valley floors, saltbush and greasewood vegetation anchors coppice dunes with intervening open playas. Minor axial drainages feed occasional storm runoff to the Quinn River Drainage.

The Santa Rosa Range divides the Quinn River (Black Rock subbasin) from the Humboldt River drainage system. The study corridor rises and falls through a system of broad basin-margin alluvial fans at Paradise Hill, the gap between the two drainages. Reentering the lowland basin of pluvial Lake Lahontan, the study corridor continues across a vegetated playa cut by axial drainages. North of Winnemucca, Nevada, in Paradise Valley, Big Cottonwood Creek and the Little Humboldt River are axial drainages that feed into the Humboldt River. Broad playa surfaces are overlain by local floodplains (and agricultural fields) adjacent to these drainages. This valley was inundated by pluvial lakes only during relatively short-lived maximum high stands. The large dune systems on the valley bottom form the leading edge of the Winnemucca dune field, which is derived from a late Pleistocene delta system when the Humboldt River, altered from its present course, entered Lake Lahontan via the Pronto gap (Davis, 1982; Benson and Peterman, 1996). Originating in Desert Valley to the west, the sands of this long-abandoned delta have entered Paradise Valley, forming prominent parabolic dunes spanning the Little Humboldt River. The drainages in Paradise Valley have also provided sand that forms late Holocene dunes and sand sheets on the local playas and axial floodplains. On the eastern side of Paradise Valley, the corridor rises onto the alluvial fans of the western front of the Hot Springs Range. The fans transition from inset fans below the Lahontan high-stand strandline, to medial fans of the lowland basin, and then upward onto the proximal fans of the mountain range.

The Golconda thrust belt marks a distinct change in the underlying rocks of north-central Nevada, and it is here that the Humboldt River snakes its way through the narrow gap at the southern toe of the Osgood Mountains. The study corridor passes through the Osgood Mountains via Soldiers Pass and Dog Spring, climbing on basin margin proximal fans and erosional slopes of the range’s foothills. The surfaces are generally old, as deposition is shifted basinward on the fans and slopes. The fans become extensive, entering Red House Flat and the tributary systems of Kelly and Evans creeks. The proximal fans of the eastern front of the Osgood Mountains transition to lowland basin medial and distal fans that have coalesced in the expansive valley bottom. The lowland basin processes are dominated by alluvial input from the prograding fans and, along the river drainage, meanderings and aeolian reworking of the Humboldt River floodplain (Miller et al., 2004).

On the eastern edge of the Upper Lahontan Basin, the study corridor encompasses the broad coalesced fans extending from the Owyhee Bluffs. The surfaces are generally stable, with well-developed soils only shallowly buried by silt loess. Headward-cutting drainages that have narrowly confined riparian zones flow steeply toward Evans Creek. Landslides are common on the colluvial slopes below the abrupt bluffs that rise above the fans. Near the headwaters of Evans Creek, southeast of Midas, Nevada, the corridor climbs out of the Upper Lahontan Basin and into the Upper Humboldt Plains.

Upper Humboldt Plains: The study corridor rises to the Upper Humboldt Plains, traversing a series of Humboldt River tributaries, each of which is a major regional drainage system. The Basin and Range province is in evidence here as the corridor alternates quickly between mountain ranges and intervening valleys, each valley containing a tributary that, with one exception, leads to the Humboldt River. The exception comprises a portion of Independence Valley where the study corridor lies outside of the hydrographic Great Basin. In general, midland drainage settings characterize the geomorphology of the Upper Humboldt Plains.

Near Midas, the study corridor traverses large, stable alluvial fans in a basin margin setting above Rock Creek in Squaw Valley. Expansive coalesced fans extend to a lowland basin setting where Rock Creek forms an axial drainage with a broad floodplain of complex meanders. The basin margin fans on either side of Rock Creek are stable surfaces with strong soil profiles. It is common for the upper slopes of basin margin landforms to form erosional or stable pediment surfaces cut into Tertiary-age sedimentary rocks. These pediments are ubiquitous in the Upper Humboldt Plains as basin margin landforms and as stable slopes in midland drainage settings.

Willow Creek, a large tributary of Rock Creek, is a prominent east-west trending midland drainage that cuts through western foothills of the Tuscarora Mountains. The corridor closely parallels the Willow Creek drainage from its confluence with Rock Creek to its headwaters in the Tuscarora Mountains. Along the way it shifts between deep floodplain terraces and the stable midland slopes. The Holocene terraces have deep profiles that generally mirror the processes, if not the chronology, evident in the stratigraphy of the middle Humboldt River (Miller et al., 2004). In the early Holocene, based on the strata below the Mazama tephra (7600 cal b.p.), the midland drainages of the Upper Humboldt Plains experienced strong flows that were eventually overtaken by aggrading floodplains marked by strong, organic A horizons or wet meadow environments. The Mazama tephra rests abruptly on the contact with the well-preserved lower profile. In the Humboldt River, Miller et al. (2004: 73) find evidence that as many as 2000 years are missing from the profile between the pre-Mazama floodplain and the reworking of the tephra into the floodplain. The temporal gap may not be present in midland drainages such as Willow Creek, because of the proximity of the source areas (e.g., local slopes) of the airfall tephra. Still, it is clear that the easily eroded tephra that blanketed the landscape after 7600 cal b.p. became a prominent component of alluvial sedimentation for millennia after its initial deposition. The Post-Mazama stratigraphy of midland drainages throughout the region is dominated by aggrading silt beds created as local floodplains developed. Occasionally, these were incised by arroyos, with gravel lenses in the terrace stratigraphy reflecting runoff from the valley margins. The modern arroyos are the most recent iteration of the cut-and-fill cycles common to the midland drainage systems.

When above the terraces of the tributary drainages, the study corridor traverses erosional and stable slopes that confine the local floodplain. The slopes extend from uplifted ranges where local Tertiary-age rhyolitic rocks cap much older (e.g., Ordovician shales) deposits. CCS tool stones, including the white opalite of Tosawihi (Elston and Raven, 1992), outcrop locally and are incorporated into a sometimes expansive lag veneer that rests on local pediments and midland slopes.

The study corridor follows midland drainage settings into the basin of Independence Valley. Skirting the basin’s southern periphery, it crosses basin margin proximal fans and pediments of Bronco Canyon and Indian Creek, tributaries of the South Fork of the Owyhee River—a Pacific Ocean drainage system. Unlike Adams Creek, a midland drainage setting to the west, these basin margin drainages feeding local fans lack depositional terraces; their depositional settings are farther north in the bottomlands and distal fans of Independence Valley.

Returning to the hydrographic Great Basin, the study corridor climbs to uplands settings in the southern Independence Mountains. Although locally subject to intensive erosion, the uplands and outcrops of local ridgetops are generally stable landforms with very old surfaces. Crossing the Independence Mountains, the study corridor reaches its highest elevation at approximately 7500 ft.

East of its highpoint in the Independence Mountains, the corridor skirts the northern reaches of Maggie Creek before dropping into the Pie Creek drainage. These midland drainage systems contain Holocene terrace sets and streams confined between stable midland slopes. A stratigraphy anchored on the Mazama tephra is typically present low in the terrace profiles within a stratigraphic sequence similar to the midland drainages throughout the Upper Humboldt Plains. However, the upper tributaries of Pie Creek and Mahala Creek show an active Post-Mazama cut-and-fill sequence (Madsen, 1985), despite tephra being present. Midland slopes east of Pie Creek are beveled into mixed lithologies of Tertiary-age sandstones and Ordovician cherts and shales. These erosional surfaces provide sediment to midland fans that extend to the drainages.

The North Fork of the Humboldt River takes a circuitous route through faulted Tertiary-age rocks, cutting deep canyons in the uplands of the northern Adobe Range. Once the study corridor makes its river crossing in the canyon of the North Fork, it traverses a series of expansive pediments on midland slopes forming the broad valleys of the Marys River and Tabor Creek. The local midland drainage floodplains are not typical of the region’s incised terrace systems. These broad streams are closer to the base-level controlled Humboldt River with its constriction at Osino Canyon. Although confined by stable pediments and fans, the tributaries are generally meandering systems on young but shallow floodplains.

Leaving the broad valley of the North Fork and Marys River, the corridor rises into the Snake Mountains and reenters a setting of stable uplands and outcrops culminating at Black Butte. However, Burnt Creek, with its classic midland drainage terrace system and Mazama-bearing stratigraphy, breaks the transition to the region of Thousand Springs Valley.

Thousand Springs Valley: At its eastern end, the study corridor climbs into uplands settings of the Snake Mountains. Here, stable upland slopes and outcrops are formed on Cambrian to Devonian quartzites, the oldest rock types in the region. There are very few archaeological sites on the stable surfaces of the Snake Mountains uplands or the basin margin pediments and fans that extend from the eastern front of the range. The uplifted and incised fans extend to Summer Camp Ridge, where stable uplands settings extend toward Thousand Springs Valley.

The expanse of Thousand Springs Valley is a lowland basin bounded by basin margin alluvial fans. The axial drainage in the valley, Thousand Springs Creek, drains to the Bonneville Basin to the east. The fans of the basin margin are broad pediment surfaces that transition to short, lowland basin medial and distal fans. The pediment surfaces are cut into Tertiary-age sedimentary rocks. Long-term erosion of the beveled surfaces provides fine-grained sediment to the small fans and chokes the axial drainages of Thousand Springs Creek and Toano Draw. Erosional badlands of the basin margin are locally overlain by aeolian dunes and sand sheets reworked from the lowland basin. However, most surfaces of the basin margin are stable or beveled by Holocene erosion. The antelope traps east of Fivemile Draw occupy expansive basin margin landforms, including beheaded pediments formed on sedimentary rimrocks and badlands.

The basin margin landforms rise to meet uplands settings of Ninemile Mountain, where stable upland surfaces and occasional outcrops form prominent ridges. The brief uplands sections of Ninemile Mountain and the southern Delano Mountains (Gamble Hills) are cut by the midland drainage of Twentyone Mile Creek, a north-flowing tributary of Thousand Springs Creek. The seasonal drainage has a deep Holocene-age terrace incised by a prominent arroyo. The terraces are confined by stable surfaces emanating from the surrounding uplands.

The undulating topography near the Nevada-Utah border brings a variety of settings and landforms into close proximity. The study corridor drops from the uplands of the Gamble Hills, traversing a stable basin margin proximal fan before intersecting Thousand Springs Creek, which has looped its way through the Delano highlands. At this point, Thousand Springs Creek enters the lowland basin below the high stand of pluvial Lake Bonneville. The narrow, lowland basin setting along the corridor in lower Thousand Springs canyon encompasses loess-capped outcrops of lacustrine sediment along the axial drainage. The waters of Lake Bonneville inundated Thousand Springs Creek briefly at about 18,000 years ago—a late Pleistocene time frame generally contemporaneous with, but perhaps slightly earlier than, the high-stand transgressions in the Lahontan basin to the west. However, the lake flooded the narrow embayment along the canyon of Thousand Springs Creek for only a short time. Soon after reaching high stand, it catastrophically downcut its sill at Red Rock Pass in Utah (Grayson, 2011: 102). As the lake downcut the Red Rock Sill, it flooded the Snake River, and the lake level dropped rapidly. The lake drained from the Thousand Springs drainages to regain “high stand” equilibrium at the Provo shoreline in Tecoma Valley.

Climbing away from the narrow Thousand Springs Creek basin, the study corridor traverses the rugged uplands surrounding Jackson Spring. Here, outcrops of Devonian shales and limestones form ridges overlooking steep canyons. The stable cliffs and slopes of the local uplands contain outcrops of tool-stone-quality CCS (grey to red chalcedony) that were occasionally targeted by people as prehistoric-era quarries. Secondary occurrences of the CCS are also common in the colluvium below steep outcrops.

At the Nevada-Utah border, the uplands settings at the eastern terminus of our study corridor look out over the vast Bonneville Basin. The headwaters of generally dry borderland drainages coalesce as they form broad fans at the margin of the pluvial lake basin. High-stand strandlines are visible below the project corridor, where Bonneville encroached on Tecoma Valley in the late Pleistocene. The Holocene transgressions and high stands in the Bonneville Basin occurred far from the study corridor.

Modern Climate

David Rhode

Northern Nevada’s climate is marked by warm, dry summers, cold winters, high diurnal temperature variation, and a short growing season. Most of the year’s scant precipitation occurs in fall and winter months in the form of snow from Pacific frontal storms, with a significant proportion of the annual water budget also falling as springtime snow and rain (table 1). In these respects, northern Nevada’s climate is fairly uniform, with three major exceptions: the influence of elevation, west-to-east variation in seasonal precipitation, and long-term quasi-cyclic variations.

First, elevation strongly affects the amount of precipitation and overall seasonal temperatures. The higher mountains capture significantly greater precipitation than neighboring valleys and basins. For example, the valley floor of the Upper Lahontan Basin, at 4000 ft in elevation, receives 6–8 inches of precipitation annually. The Santa Rosa Range overlooks this broad basin from a vantage up to 5700 ft higher; its peak receives approximately 40 inches of precipitation annually—a fivefold increase from the nearby valley floor. Precipitation profiles along the pipeline route highlight the importance of elevation (fig. 11). The High Rock Country has an average elevation of ~6000 ft and receives about 11 inches of annual water input. The adjacent Upper Lahontan Basin is lower and drier, receiving only 5–10 inches annually. The Upper Humboldt Plains and Thousand Springs Valley area are again higher and moister, climbing to 11–16 inches with the increase in elevation, with a maximum at the Snake Mountain divide between the Humboldt Basin and the Bonneville Basin. Finally, the Thousand Springs Valley descends in both elevation and in annual moisture, dropping between 9 and 12 inches.

Fig. 11. Precipitation profiles along the project corridor (estimates from PRISM 1971 to 2000 normalized reconstructions).

Local topographic rises result in local spikes in estimated precipitation. Temperature values are inversely related to elevation, generally speaking, with a rough average lapse rate of ~3–4° F per 1000 ft of elevation. However, surface temperature lapse rates in the dry air of the Intermountain West are highly variable and geographically complex (Houghton et al., 1975; Wolfe, 1992; Lundquist and Cayan, 2007; Minder et al., 2010). In the winter, thermal inversions are common in northern Nevada valleys, such that valley floors are often significantly colder than midelevation slopes, due to cold air drainage. Likewise in the summer, surface heating of valleys can be much more intense than in neighboring mountains, creating extreme temperature lapse rates, until thermals mix the atmosphere to a more stable state.

A second major factor that affects the general uniformity of northern Nevada climate arises from west-to-east trends in the proportion of precipitation resulting both from Pacific westerly storms and from tropical summer monsoonal precipitation (Houghton et al., 1975). At the far western end of the study corridor, the influence of Pacific winter storms is significantly stronger than in the east, as air masses pass the Sierra Nevada and move eastward (fig. 12). For example, Adel and Denio Junction, near the western end of the line, receive nearly 50% more fall and winter precipitation than does Montello at the far eastern end, and Fort Bidwell, in Surprise Valley just west of the High Rock Country, receives nearly four times Montello’s winter precipitation. This effect falls off quite strikingly, however, beyond the Sierra Nevada. Most of the High Rock Country receives less than half the fall and winter precipitation that Fort Bidwell does (see table 1).

Fig. 12. Annual precipitation for selected weather stations along the project corridor. A. Seasonal precipitation amounts. B. Seasonal precipitation proportions.

In contrast, summer rainfall fed by moisture moving north from the subtropical Pacific Ocean or Gulf of Mexico is a significant part of the year’s precipitation on the eastern end of the corridor (see table 1). The western part of the corridor is farther away from this moisture source and typically receives less than 60% of the amount of summer precipitation (< 1.3 inches) than does, say, Montello or Grouse Creek (>1.7 inches; fig. 12). Over most of the line, however, the overall proportion of summer rainfall contributing to the annual water budget ranges narrowly between 13% and 17%, with Montello and Grouse Creek the exceptions at the far eastern end. On the whole, then, seasonal contribution of precipitation varies only moderately across northern Nevada except at the far eastern and western ends of the route.

One other dimension may differentially affect climates across northern Nevada, and that is its long-term temporal variability. Regional climate varies in response to global-scale decadal and multidecadal oceanic fluctuations such as the El Niño–southern oscillation (ENSO), Pacific decadal oscillation (PDO), and Atlantic multidecadal oscillation (AMO). Recent research based on instrumental records and paleoclimatological proxies yields insights into how these global-scale oscillations may affect the northern Nevada region.

The ENSO, which operates on a two- to seven-year quasi-cyclic pattern, produces a large-scale “seesaw” or dipole pattern of precipitation in western North America: during El Niño events, the Southwest is anomalously wet during the cool season, while the Pacific Northwest is anomalously dry, and the opposite is true during La Niña events (Redmond and Koch, 1991; Dettinger et al., 1998; Cayan et al., 1999). The transition zone in this spatial dipole falls between 40° and 42° north latitude, precisely where the project corridor crosses through Nevada (Wise, 2010; see fig. 1). In this transition zone, precipitation patterns are highly variable and lack correlation with ENSO cycles (Brown and Comrie, 2004). Across this region, there is also little or no correlation between winter precipitation and the June-November Southern Oscillation Index, a leading measure of ENSO strength and polarity; this transition zone “has remained remarkably stationary through time across the Great Basin” (Wise, 2010: 4), with little latitudinal shift through the 20th century. In broad terms, the strength and polarity of ENSO cycles by themselves bear no strong relation to the amount of winter precipitation that northern Nevada receives.

Other large-scale oceanic oscillations do affect patterns of precipitation in this transition zone, in concert with ENSO. The PDO is a mode of variability in sea surface temperatures in the North Pacific Ocean (Mantua et al., 1997; Nigam et al., 1999) related to ENSO but fluctuating over periods of decades rather than years. The PDO’s “warm” or “positive” phase is associated with climatic conditions similar to El Niño, while the “cold” or “negative” phase is more like La Niña in its effects. The PDO has been shown to modulate the strength of ENSO patterns and to affect western North American snowpack, flooding, fire frequency, forest growth, fisheries, and ocean resources. The PDO may modulate ENSO effects in northern Nevada as well. In negative PDO phases (cold Pacific waters), northern Nevada tends to experience greater frequency of droughts (McCabe et al., 2008). Positive PDO phases are geographically more complex, however: northeastern Nevada tends to be significantly drier during El Niños and significantly wetter during La Niñas, while northwestern Nevada behaves in the opposite manner, but only weakly so (Wise, 2010). The PDO fluctuation has had a strong, multidecadal periodic expression over the past 200 years, but it has been inconsistent over the past millennium (MacDonald and Case, 2005). It was absent 200–400 years ago and only sporadically expressed from a.d. 1300–1500. The PDO was strongly negative 700–1000 years ago during the Medieval Climatic Anomaly (MCA), and this negative state may have resulted in persistent La Niña–like conditions and widespread megadroughts that affected much of the Great Basin and beyond.

Likewise, the AMO has very strong effects on interior western North American drought frequencies. The AMO exhibits long-term variability of North Atlantic Ocean sea surface temperatures, fluctuating on a quasi-cyclic 50–70 year scale that has been shown to correlate strongly with drought frequencies and patterns in North America, in correlation with ENSO/PDO patterns (Hidalgo, 2004; McCabe et al., 2004, 2008). The AMO is thought to modulate global atmospheric circulation patterns, affecting precipitation in North America (Hu et al., 2011; Oglesby et al., 2012): a positive AMO (warm North Atlantic surface waters) is strongly correlated with increased drought frequency, while a negative AMO phase is associated with reduced drought frequency, greater precipitation, and persistent pluvials (McCabe et al., 2004, 2008; Cook et al., 2011). Along the project corridor, the same pattern applies, in combination with PDO: warmer north Atlantic and eastern Pacific oceans (positive AMO and PDO) have the strongest connection to persistent drought, while cooler north Atlantic and eastern Pacific oceans (negative AMO and PDO) are strongly connected with moister conditions (McCabe et al., 2004, 2008). The AMO is also thought to have played an important role in the persistence of megadroughts during the MCA (Cook et al., 2007; Feng et al., 2011; Oglesby et al., 2012). Combinations of AMO and PDO regimes can modify precipitation patterns, so that northwestern Nevada patterns are somewhat different from northeastern Nevada (e.g., McCabe et al., 2004: fig. 5; Wise, 2010: fig. 3). Adding further complexity, Wise (2010) found that during a negative AMO, our region tends to have moister winters under La Niña conditions, but slightly drier winters during El Niños; if the AMO is positive, these relationships are reversed but muted. These variable results, depending as they do on distinct oscillations of Atlantic and Pacific waters, are undoubtedly why our region is such a weakly correlated transition zone of the prominent ENSO precipitation dipole in western North America.

Vegetation

David Rhode

Having described the nonbiotic environmental features and conditions prevailing along the study corridor, it remains to review the biotic environment, specifically the plant communities and taxa characteristic of each of the four project regions. As might be expected, there are both similarities and differences between regions, all of which had important implications for prehistoric human occupation.

High Rock Country

As we have previously reviewed, the majority of the High Rock Country consists of dissected volcanic plateaus punctuated by several lowland basins, all generally above 5000 ft in elevation. Sagebrush steppe dominates the plateaus, which are mostly covered with big sagebrush, though low sagebrush occurs in thin soils particularly in the far northwest corner of the state. The sagebrush is mixed with cool-season “palouse” type grasses (wheatgrass, Idaho fescue, and Sandberg bluegrass) along with wild rye, squirreltail, and needlegrass. Typical shrubby associates include antelope bush, desert peach, and Mormon tea. Western juniper woodlands occasionally mix with sagebrush, especially on the westernmost edge of the corridor at Barrel Springs, where winter precipitation is greatest. Springs and seeps (often geothermal) occur frequently but patchily in the region, feeding short riparian corridors in canyons and moist meadows in valley bottoms. These volcanic plateaus and upland areas often contain volcanic lithosols, having well-developed and fertile surface organic layers conducive to development of grasslands and meadows. Certain root vegetables important in traditional subsistence, notably epos (yampah), often occur most abundantly on volcanic lithosols (e.g., Statham, 1982). Other root crops including camas, biscuit-root, bitterroot, and wild onion grow preferentially in thin rocky soils of dry slopes and benches, where their enlarged roots are adapted to survival in extended dry seasons (Meilleur et al., 1999; Gleason, 2002). The sagebrush steppe supports other traditional dietary plants such as balsamroot, ricegrass, and other grasses.

The pluvial basins of Long Valley and Massacre Lake are dominated by desert shrub communities composed of greasewood, shadscale, saltbush, hopsage, seepweed, and salt grass on sodic clay-rich bottomlands, and by sagebrush steppe dominated by bud sage and shadscale on coarser mineral aridosols in the valley’s lower margins. These lake-bed and marginal sagebrush communities often contain plants of traditional economic importance, notably seepweed; shadscale; various grasses including Indian ricegrass, bluegrass, alkali sacaton, and wild rye; and annual herbs such as blazing star.

In the highest reaches of the study corridor in this region, above 6000 ft, mountain big sagebrush dominates, mixed with a variety of grasses, perennial herbs, montane trees, and shrubs (notably curl-leaf mountain mahogany, snowberry, serviceberry, chokecherry, currants and gooseberries, and snowbrush). A limited number of conifers other than juniper (limber pine, whitebark pine, ponderosa pine, and white fir) are restricted to a few localities in the adjacent higher mountains but do not exist in the immediate study corridor. There are several very limited stands of aspen at higher elevations, which occur with willow thickets along stream courses and in protected “snow pockets”; chokecherry, gooseberry, elderberry, wild rose, and nettle are also present in these locations. Sedge meadows occur at all elevations in broad flats that are subject to a high water table from springs, seeps, or frequent flooding, and may harbor a diverse wetland community of sedges and bulrushes, grasses, perennial herbs, or shrubs common to riparian zones (Rogers and Tiehm, 1979).

Upper Lahontan Basin

East of the High Rock Country, the study corridor drops into the basin of Pleistocene Lake Lahontan in the northeastern arm of the Black Rock Desert, crossing its former lake bed and running along its lower slopes. Because much of the Upper Lahontan Basin is lower in elevation than the High Rock Country and farther from the source of Pacific frontal storms, it is measurably warmer and drier (see table 1). The lowlands have the longest growing season along the route, about 150–160 days. Lake Lahontan’s bed is vegetated with an open mosaic of greasewood, seepweed, saltbush, and shadscale desert scrub, depending on the water table and the alkalinity, salinity, or clay content of its weakly developed young soils. Other shrubs common in these open communities include bud sage, hopsage, Nevada Mormon tea, and horsebrush; annual plants occur in abundance but episodically. Moist meadow areas are typically dominated by salt grass and sedges. At slightly higher elevations, above ~4600 ft, sagebrush steppe dominates, with big sagebrush, low sagebrush, and associated dryland grasses forming a patchwork according to soil conditions and aridity (Jensen, 1989). Among the most important plants in the traditional foraging economy are seepweed, Indian ricegrass, tansy mustard, and other small-seed producers; suppliers of green vegetables including prickly pear cactus, princes plume, and others; and dry-adapted root crops such as bitterroot and mariposa lily on rockier soils.

Isolated fault-block mountain ranges, such as the Jackson, Pine Forest, and Santa Rosa ranges, ring the vast Lahontan plain and provide an altitudinal contrast of as much as 5700 ft at the highest peaks. As previously noted, these cooler mountains harvest significantly higher amounts of precipitation than the lowlands, and they support denser sagebrush-grass and mountain brush communities, extensive aspen groves, and (in some localities) subalpine coniferous woodlands. Springs and seeps are rare in the valleys, but they occur frequently in uplands and at their margins.

Upper Humboldt Plains

Near the midpoint of Nevada, and for 105 miles to the east, the study corridor passes through the expansive Upper Humboldt Plains and the Humboldt River watershed. This region is higher in elevation than the Lahontan Basin, varying from 5000 to more than 7000 ft, and in nearby mountains rising to nearly 10,000 ft. As a consequence, annual precipitation is greater (10–15 inches) and the area is moderately colder (see table 1).

The bulk of this region is vegetated by dry sagebrush or sagebrush-grass steppe communities growing on various dryland soils. Deeper, more fertile soils support big sagebrush, while on thin rocky soils, open low sagebrush steppe with sparse associates is the rule (Hironaka et al., 1983; Jensen, 1989). In the sagebrush steppe, typical Great Basin grasses such as Indian ricegrass, needlegrass, and wild rye mix with more northerly cool-season grasses such as Idaho fescue and bluebunch wheatgrass (Jensen et al., 1988). The drier slopes and benches support bitterroot, epos, biscuit-root, wild onion, and other dryland root crops, as well as various small-seed producers like the grasses and mustards.

The study corridor crosses through higher terrain in two places: once in the Independence Mountains near Tuscarora, and again in the Snake Mountains north of Wells. These higher areas, classed as semiarid uplands, are vegetated in big sagebrush steppe mixed with montane brush plants such as mountain mahogany, currant, and other shrubs, as well as economically valuable perennial herbs like balsamroot. Juniper woodlands, composed of Utah juniper and Rocky Mountain juniper, prevail on upper-elevation slopes and flats; pinyon pine is lacking, however. Stands dominated by Rocky Mountain juniper occur along some of the rivers and slopes in the major mountains but are usually a minority component of Utah juniper-dominated woodlands. Sagebrush, Mormon tea, rabbitbrush, antelope bush, gooseberry, and snowberry are common associates.

Extensive aspen forests occur in the higher montane areas of the Santa Rosa, Independence, and Jarbidge mountains. Dense subalpine coniferous forests and meadows occur in the higher reaches of the Independence and Snake mountains, the Jarbidge Mountains farther north, and the Ruby and East Humboldt mountains to the south. These higher mountains feed several permanent tributaries that the study corridor crosses: Rock Creek, Maggie Creek, North Fork Humboldt, Marys River, and Tahoe Creek. Depending on the depth of the water table, among other factors, these streams and spring-fed meadows have a predictable mosaic of riparian plant associations, such as moist meadows and bogs, riparian willow thickets, grassy meadows, greasewood strips, and dense sagebrush belts (Castelli et al., 2000; Chambers et al., 2004). Chokecherry, elderberry, currant, rose, and buffalo berry are fruit trees or shrubs that occur commonly or occasionally along riparian corridors. Some riparian zones are prime habitat for several moisture-loving root crops including camas and tobacco root, and others for a host of wetland marsh resources such as bulrush and cattail.

Thousand Springs Valley

East of the Snake Mountains, the study corridor drops into the watershed of the Bonneville Basin, with its typically dry stream beds running eastward into Utah. The corridor elevation falls below 6000 ft through most of this basin, generally declining west to east. With the exception of the Snake Mountains, the annual precipitation of the corridor is approximately 10–12 inches, of which fully a quarter may fall in summer thunderstorms (see fig. 11).

Thousand Springs Valley is predominantly sagebrush steppe mixed with cool-season grasses through most of the range, with scattered juniper woodlands in rocky areas at higher elevations. The sagebrush steppe is dominated by big sagebrush on deeper soils and by black sagebrush on thin rocky soils, with some smaller areas in which low sagebrush prevails. Greasewood and shadscale typify desert scrub communities on lower-elevation rocky slopes, along streams, and in the flats below. Mountain brush communities and aspen groves dominate above ~7000 ft in elevation, but the study corridor stays below this elevation. Juniper woodlands, typically containing pure stands of Utah juniper but also often containing Rocky Mountain juniper, are present on midslopes. It is in this region that pinyon pine grows nearest to the corridor, in the Windermere Hills, Pequop Range, Toana Range, and (reportedly) the Leach Range (Charlet, 1996). Springs are frequent in uplands but uncommon on the lower flats and slopes. Plants of traditional economic importance include yampah, bitterroot, mariposa lily, sunflower and balsamroot, various grasses, and other annual and perennial small-seed producers.

Summary

The previous discussion highlights certain ecological continuities in the four regions through which the study corridor passes. Most of the route goes through a sea of sagebrush-grass steppe, typically dominated by big sagebrush but also including low sagebrush on thin rocky substrates, mountain big sagebrush in higher uplands, and black sagebrush on the eastern end of the line. In northern Nevada, the sagebrush-grass steppe features northern cool-season grasses mixed with more typical Great Basin species, and this is especially notable on the northwestern and northeastern ends of the line. In all four regions, sagebrush steppe is replaced by greasewood-saltbush scrub vegetation in soils with high sodic and clay content, typically in the margins of old lake beds in valley bottoms. At higher elevations in all four regions, the sagebrush-grass steppe intergrades with montane brush communities dominated by curl-leaf mountain mahogany, aspen, gooseberry, elderberry, snowberry, and other shrubs. In three of the four regions, juniper woodlands make up a part of the corridor’s traverse, with western juniper at the northwestern end and a mix of Utah juniper and Rocky Mountain juniper in the east. Riparian corridors in the various regions are also broadly similar in their vegetation composition, dominated by moist meadows or thickets of willow, chokecherry, wild rose, nettle, wild rye, occasionally birch or alder, and sometimes conifers or other trees more typically found at higher elevations. Subalpine vegetation occurs in the higher mountains of all regions, including coniferous forests, extensive aspen groves, and highland shrublands dominated by mountain sagebrush. In these respects, the vegetation of the four regions is typical of the northern Great Basin (Cronquist et al., 1972; Franklin and Dyrness, 1973).

The broad similarity of the regions being acknowledged, we can also identify some significant differences between them. As noted previously, the climate of the four regions varies depending on elevation and geography, resulting in differences in the abundance of water annually and seasonally. In particular, the High Rock Country and the Upper Humboldt Plains appear to be generally better watered than the Upper Lahontan Basin and the Thousand Springs Valley. A second difference relates to the abundance of certain grasses and other annual herbs and shrubs that produce the small seeds so important to traditional foraging economies. Many of these are plants primarily of lowland desert settings, and thus they appear to be most important in the Upper Lahontan Basin and the Thousand Springs Valley. Third, the abundance of different root crops, which were of major economic importance in the northern Great Basin (Kelly, 1932; Steward, 1938), appears to vary between the four regions. The High Rock Country is notable for the abundance of epos, biscuit-root, bitterroot, and a variety of other geophytes (Kelly, 1932; Couture et al., 1986; Trammell, 2008). The Upper Lahontan Basin may have fewer of these root crops, but bitterroot, mariposa lily, and wild onion may become more important. In the Upper Humboldt Plains, camas, epos, and tobacco root achieve local prominence in moist areas, and bitterroot and biscuit-root may be abundant in drier rocky benches and hillslopes. Bitterroot, mariposa lily, biscuit-root, and wild onion may also be important on the rocky slopes of the Thousand Springs Valley. Finally, pinyon pine grows in the juniper woodlands of nearby mountains only in the eastern part of the study corridor.

Economic Plants and Animals

David Rhode

A wide range of native plant and animal foods made up the traditional subsistence roster in northern Nevada. Root vegetables of various types achieved particular prominence in this region, especially in the western portion of the study area, compared with the rest of the Great Basin. Their dietary significance here was akin to that farther north on the Columbia Plateau. Small seeds may have ranked secondary in dietary importance, unlike other parts of the Great Basin. Among animal foods, small game likely was the largest reliable source of protein. Notably absent over most of the corridor was the pinyon pine, a typical Great Basin staple food south of the Humboldt River.

Vegetable Foods

The following discussion identifies four major classes of vegetable foods: geophytes, small seeds, fruits and greens, and pinyon nuts. As geophytes, and particularly epos, were potentially the most important plant staple in this region, we return to this topic again in chapter 13.

Geophytes: A variety of plants having edible taproots, tubers, bulbs, corms, or rhizomes were vitally important food resources in the northern Great Basin (table 2). The underground storage organs of these so-called geophytes (Raunkiaer, 1934; Muller-Dombois and Ellenberg, 1974) are a rich source of stored energy and, therefore, avidly sought after for food by people worldwide. Among the most important dietary staples in the northern Great Basin were epos, biscuit-root, bitterroot, sego lily, wild onion, and balsamroot.

Epos is a highly valued root crop with two main species in our region. Perideridia gairdneri is the dominant species at Barrel Springs in the westernmost portion of the study corridor, and it thrives in the volcanic lithosols typical in this area (Trammell et al., 2008). Perideridia bolanderi is common to dry meadows and hillsides throughout northern and central Nevada, often associated with sagebrush and juniper (Couture et al., 1986). Epos was typically collected in early summer when soil conditions were most favorable to digging and the fragile stem was more easily traced down to the tuberous root cluster (Couture et al., 1986: 157; Trammell et al., 2008). Experiments suggest that burning and tillage significantly enhance plant densities; native procurement practices would have been important in maintaining viable populations (Trammell et al., 2008).

“The roots were rubbed on an open twine tray to divest them of their skins and were … eaten immediately, raw or boiled, or else dried in the sun and stored” (Kelly, 1932: 101). Willard Park reported the Paviotso ate epos tubers raw or roasted them buried in sand beneath a fire (Fowler, 1989). Chamberlin (1911) reported that epos was highly favored by the Gosiute in northern Utah, “commonly prepared by roasting in a pit lined with hot stones” and preserved in bulk for the winter. Kelly (1932: 100) also found pit-roasting a standard method of food preparation for epos. Pit-roasting is usually conducted if roots or other plant tissues (including camas, balsamroot, valerian root, and certain wild onions) have high amounts of the complex polysaccharides fructan and inulin, to break them down into simpler sugars more easily digestible by humans (Thoms, 1989; Wandsnider, 1997). Epos does not contain significant amounts of inulin, so the need for pit-roasting is uncertain.

Epos is rich in carbohydrates and has a moderate amount of protein as well. Couture et al. (1986) reported low return rates for collecting epos (172 kcal/hr; see also Todt and Hannon, 1998), but recent experiments conducted by Trammell et al. (2008) suggest much higher return rates (2000–2600 kcal/hr); the extreme differences might relate to the relative abundance of epos in the different collection areas.

The biscuit-root genus was very important in the traditional diet of peoples in the northern Great Basin and the Columbia Plateau (Hunn and French, 1981; Couture et al., 1986). Economically significant species include cous, Canby’s biscuit-root, Nevada biscuit-root, and bigseed lomatium. Cous grows on dry, open flats and slopes often associated with sagebrush, from the Sheldon Antelope Range eastward across northern Nevada through the Independence and Jarbidge mountains and on to the vicinity of Jackpot (Holmgren, 1942; Rogers and Tiehm, 1979; Kartesz, 1987). Canby’s biscuit-root, or chucklusa, is found in northwestern Nevada on open rocky hills and plains, below about 6000 ft in elevation (Kelly, 1932: 103; Couture, 1978: 43–45; Cronquist et al., 1997). Bigseed lomatium and Nevada biscuit-root are common throughout northern Nevada, associated with sagebrush on dry hills and plains. In early spring, when the flower was blooming, women gathered these tubers with a simple, straight digging stick, then peeled and prepared them in various ways for immediate consumption or for long-term storage (Kelly, 1932; Whitning, 1950; Couture, 1978). Biscuit-root is high in carbohydrates but low in protein content. Couture et al. (1986) provide collection rates using traditional methods ranging from 143 to 1219 kcal/hr, while Francis (2000) estimates a much loftier return rate of 2598 kcal/hr for biscuit-root. Some lomatium species also served as greens, especially desert celery, a rich source of dietary ascorbic acid (Benson et al., 1973; Norton et al., 1984; Meilleur et al., 1999). Others, such as fernleaf biscuit-root and king desert parsley, were important medicines or fish poisons (Chamberlin, 1911; Fowler, 1989; Meilleur et al., 1999).

The bitterroot species grows commonly along much of the corridor, particularly in sagebrush-grass steppe communities. The plant is found on thin, dry, rocky soils on well-drained gravel benches, hillsides, and ridges, generally below ~6500 ft in elevation. An early successional plant, it colonizes disturbed or burned-off areas and may benefit from late summer fires (Blaisdell, 1953). The thick branching taproot is pulled and boiled, after which the bitter skin can be easily removed; in spring when the root is young and in the bud stage, the skin slips off easily without boiling (Couture, 1978: 52). The peeled roots are sun dried for later boiling, roasting, or processing into flour. Nutritionally, bitterroot is rich in vitamin C and moderately rich in carbohydrates. Couture et al. (1986) estimate collection return rates of 1374 kcal/hr, among the highest they measured (Simms [1984] reports similarly high values). Dried bitterroot or bitterroot flour were important exchange items.

The sego lily is a showy flower common to dry sandy or rocky sagebrush plains and hills, where it occurs in sparse patches. The starchy bulb was collected in the spring and was commonly eaten fresh (Couture, 1978). Chamberlin (1911) noted that in Utah large quantities were sometimes dried and stored for winter use, but Kelly (1932: 102) reported that in Surprise Valley, “they were never plentiful enough to be dried.” Smith et al. (2001) suggest that in Wyoming, sego lily bulbs were collected and pit-roasted to convert their starches to simpler carbohydrates more suitable for human digestion. They note that return rates of the bulbs was quite low (~207 kcal/hr in pursuit and processing time), but suggest that such a common and drought-resistant food plant might be a predictable, stable resource in a highly variable environment, particularly in spring when other foods were in short supply.

Camas bulbs served as a staple food in much of the Columbia Plateau and northern Intermountain region: the bulbs were subject to intense utilization, processing, storage, and exchange (Statham, 1982; Reeve, 1986; Thoms, 1989). Though less common in our region, they were also highly regarded (Chamberlin, 1911; Kelly, 1932; Steward, 1938; Couture, 1978: 63). After summertime collection, the nutritious bulbs were cooked at length in large earth ovens, which created a sweet food by converting the complex carbohydrate inulin into digestible fructose. The cooked camas was then eaten immediately, and large quantities were also dried and stored for later consumption or exchange with other groups. Return rates for collection of camas have been calculated as very high (5479 kcal/hr), with net return rates of 2042 kcal/hr (including collection, processing, transport, and storage; Thoms, 1989: 235–236). Camas is locally common only in fertile, moist meadows and along creeks in various places from the northwestern edge of Nevada east across the northernmost border to near Owyhee (Kartesz, 1987: 1698). For this reason, procurement and processing of camas in the vicinity of the study corridor must have been limited, but people traveling into the region likely brought processed camas with them from centers of camas collection in southeastern Oregon and south-central Idaho (Couture, 1978; Statham, 1982).

Wild onions were eaten in quantity, both the bulbs and the greens. Different species are available in a wide range of habitats, often abundant under greasewood and on sandy sagebrush-covered flats and slopes. According to Kelly (1932), people collected wild onions without needing a digging stick, and they ate them fresh or roasted, but not dried (see also Fowler, 1989). Smith and McNees (2005) report low return rates (230 kcal/hr) for the collection of Allium textile bulbs.

Balsamroot is common in dry rocky habitats in foothills, plains, and montane settings. Its large, thick, woody taproot was harvested in the summer and eaten fresh or dried. Pit-cooking of balsamroot increases its available energy by about 250% by reducing inulin into simpler sugars (Peacock, 1998). The plants were also highly important for their young leaves and stems as springtime greens, their edible sunflowerlike seeds in summer, and their medicinal properties (Chamberlin, 1911).

Tobaccoroot, adapted to moist habitats, was an important local food, especially along the upper Humboldt River (Steward, 1938). Like camas, it contains abundant inulin that requires long pit-roasting to convert to digestible sugars. Though it tastes sweet after it is cooked, unlike camas, tobaccoroot gives off a pungent smell while it roasts: Kelly (1932) called it “Indian Limburger” and Catherine Fowler (Madsen and Kirkman, 1988) likened it to “dirty gym socks.” Tobaccoroot was common along the Humboldt River and its tributaries, and in moist patches across northern Nevada.

Bulrush and cattail are aquatic geophytes. Both bear starchy rhizomes that, along with the attached lower stems, were gathered from the margins of streams and marshes in the spring, summer, and fall. These were peeled and eaten raw, boiled, or roasted; cattail roots could be dried and ground into flour for mush, though bulrush roots were eaten fresh and not stored (Fowler, 1989: 49, 1992). These underwater roots and shoots may have been a highly significant food resource in wetland settings along the study corridor (Wheat, 1967; Madsen et al., 1997).

Small seeds: Historically, Great Basin native peoples utilized a wide array of seeds for food (tables 3 and 4). Among the most important were seeds of the grass, goosefoot, sunflower, and mustard families (Chamberlin, 1911; Kelly, 1932; Steward, 1938; Fowler, 1992). Seeds were typically gathered by means of seed-beating or hand-stripping, and then they were winnowed, parched, and ground for use in gruels and cakes (Fowler and Rhode, 2011). The season of collection varies by species, with important crops such as Indian ricegrass ready for collection early to mid summer, many available through summer and fall, and a few species such as seepweed and iodinebush persisting into late fall and winter. The habitats from which seed crops were collected include marshes, playa margins, saltbush scrub, sagebrush-grass steppe, upland slopes, and open woodlands. In many instances the grain-producing plants are supremely adapted to the colonization of disturbed habitats, so manipulation techniques such as burning of rangelands enhanced their growth and spread. Small seeds were an important staple component of traditional Great Basin subsistence economies, but they are fairly time-consuming to collect and process compared with their caloric return (generally less than 1000 kcal/hr); they are therefore usually considered to be a low-ranked category of resources (e.g., Simms, 1987).

However, small seeds would have been the main category of plant food resources in the Upper Lahontan Basin, where root crops are likely to have been fairly scarce. They may also have been the majority crop in the Thousand Springs Valley, enhanced by spring and summer precipitation. Seed plants would have shared importance with root crops in some of the higher-elevation regions, particularly the High Rock Country and the Upper Humboldt Plains.

Fruits and greens: About a dozen trees, shrubs, and vines yielded edible fruits (table 5). Most grow on upland slopes, along stream courses, or in woodlands, and are gathered in summer and fall. Chamberlin (1911) reported that serviceberries were a very important source of food for the Gosiute of western Utah, serving as stored food for much of the winter. Chokecherries, buffalo berries, gooseberries or currants, and sometimes elderberries also figured importantly as dried stores for winter use.

Table 6 lists major plants used as fresh green vegetables, particularly important during the early spring as winter stores became depleted. Cactus pads were collected even during the winter as an augmentation to stored foods. Greens do not yield substantial caloric return, but they are crucial as sources of necessary vitamins, minerals, and dietary fiber (Fowler and Rhode, 2011: 255–259).

Pinyon nuts: The pinyon pine, the nuts of which are a traditional dietary staple in much of the Great Basin, rarely occurs along the eastern end of the corridor and is absent to the north. Decent stands occur in the Leach Mountains and Windermere Hills, and in well-developed groves in the Ruby Mountains, East Humboldt Mountains, Toano Range, and Pilot Range. Families living along the Humboldt River or its tributaries traveled south to collect pinyon nuts during the fall (Steward, 1938).

Nuts from other pines likely also served as a food resource, notably limber pine and whitebark pine. Today these subalpine conifers grow only on the tops of the highest mountains in the region: the Pine Forest Range, Santa Rosa Range, Independence Mountains, Jarbidge Mountains, Snake Mountains, and Pilot Range. During the early Holocene, their range was probably greater. Limber pine produces a highly nutritious small seed, with greater amounts of protein and fat than the carbohydrate-rich pinyon pine nut, but it is more time-consuming to collect and process. Depending on how much processing is involved (in particular, whether to shell the nutmeats), the return rates of limber pine can vary considerably, from a high-ranked resource (no shelling) to a very low-ranked one (if shelling is preferred). Limber pine nuts have been found in archaeological contexts at Danger Cave, Utah (Rhode and Madsen, 1998) and in the late prehistoric high-elevation villages in central Nevada and east-central California. Steward (1938) noted that the Lemhi Shoshone in central Idaho collected seeds of the “white pine,” presumably limber and/or whitebark pine.

Animal foods

Animal foods also played a crucial subsistence role for the ethnographic and prehistoric peoples of the Northern Tier. The following discussion reviews the most important of these taxa, including small and large mammals, birds, fish, and insects.

Mammals: Of the wide variety of animals figuring into the traditional resource base of northern Nevada native peoples, the smaller game mammals proved the most important economically. Small game includes several species of lagomorphs and a host of rodents. The lagomorphs—rabbits and hares—were of major significance to native lifeways, as they provided a main source of meat, as well as skins for blankets and clothing. Jackrabbits occupy open low sagebrush or saltbush-covered valleys and foothills common throughout northern Nevada. Large numbers could be hunted through communal drives held in fall and early winter, yielding substantial meat and skins. Cottontail rabbits live more commonly in higher sagebrush steppe, brushy slopes, and along riparian corridors. Hunters took cottontails individually using snares and nooses, the bow and arrow, or the throwing stick, rather than via communal drives. Nevertheless, the abundance of cottontail remains often greatly exceeds the numbers of jackrabbit bones in northern Nevada archaeological sites, attesting to their overall economic significance (e.g., Grayson, 1988, 1990; Carpenter, 2004).

Other small to medium-sized game animals, including beavers, porcupines, marmots, ground squirrels, woodrats, gophers, voles, mice, and other rodents, were widely taken with deadfall traps, snares, and other means. Of these, marmots, ground squirrels, and gophers are most widely reported as having been hunted (Kelly, 1932; Steward, 1938; Stewart, 1939; Fowler, 1989, 1992). Many of these genera are widespread across northern Nevada, though certain species have narrower habitat ranges. Beavers were restricted to the Humboldt River, its tributaries, and the uplands of northeastern Nevada.

Large game in northern Nevada includes pronghorn, bighorn sheep, and mule deer; bison and elk occasionally inhabit the region in small numbers. The three main artiodactyls generally occupy different habitats. Pronghorn are found primarily in the valleys and foothills between mountain ranges, preferring open low sagebrush shrublands where they can easily see and flee from predators. In prehistoric times, pronghorn herds likely thrived in northern Nevada along the entire study corridor, and their remains are present, though often in small numbers, in archaeological contexts across northern Nevada. Large prehistoric constructions used as pronghorn drive fences have been reported from within and near the study corridor (see chap. 16; see also Hockett, 2005; Jensen, 2007; Hockett and Murphy, 2009; Hockett et al., 2013).

In contrast to pronghorn, bighorn sheep favor grassland or grassy steppe habitat in rough rocky and steep uplands, such as cliffs, canyons, and open flats with nearby steep terrain affording escape from predators. Populations migrate between a lower-elevation winter range and an alpine or montane summer range, as they follow new vegetative growth into higher elevations through spring and summer and return to lower elevations as snow accumulates in the mountains. In the 19th century, bighorn populations occupied nearly all upland terrain in northern Nevada, but they rapidly succumbed to historic-era ranching, diseases of exotic livestock, and overhunting. Remains of bighorn sheep dominate faunal assemblages in many archaeological sites in the northern Great Basin. Hunting-related blinds and walls are commonplace in talus slopes and along cliffs throughout northern Nevada, undoubtedly related to bighorn procurement.

Mule deer occupy a wide range of habitats but tend to prefer montane brushy slopes, flats, and riparian corridors. Like bighorn, mule deer typically move seasonally between habitats at different elevations, from forest edges at higher elevations in summer to valley floors in winter, following the snow line. Mule deer favor secondary successional habitats, taking advantage of plants that colonize disturbed areas; their diet varies depending on habitat, with shrubs such as sagebrush, antelope bush, serviceberry, snowbrush, and snowberry as staples. Prior to the 20th century, mule deer were generally uncommon in Nevada and their representation in archaeological sites is fairly low. Populations boomed in Nevada beginning in the early 20th century as domestic livestock “led to the removal of grasses and to the spread of plant species favored by deer” (Grayson, 2011: 342).

Compared with these three artiodactyls, bison and elk were much rarer in Nevada. Bison remains found throughout northern Nevada indicate that they occupied several areas in limited numbers during the later Holocene (Grayson, 2006). Bison remains are especially common in eastern Great Basin sites dating between 1600 and 600 b.p., when enhanced summer monsoons promoted native grass growth (and Fremont maize agriculture, as well). Bison remains declined in abundance in the eastern Basin after 600 b.p., but they became more common in southeastern Oregon, possibly as a result of increased moisture and cooling associated with the Little Ice Age (Grayson, 2011).

Elk, or wapiti, commonly reside in the mountains on the Idaho border, but in the past they occasionally inhabited northern Nevada, according to historical and archaeological observations (Grayson, 2011). Elk remains are found in half a dozen archaeological sites in northern Nevada, including Hanging Rock Shelter, Last Supper Cave, and South Fork Shelter, leading Grayson to suggest that “small numbers of wapiti may have been widely scattered throughout northern Nevada and adjacent portions of Oregon during much of the Holocene” (1988: 114).

Birds: Birds that played a part in traditional subsistence include water-loving taxa such as grebes, ducks, and geese, and dryland taxa including sage grouse, blue grouse, quail, northern flicker, and others. Other birds, including raptors, owls, and passerines, were also hunted for their meat, feathers, or body parts. Eggs and chicks of many birds were also collected for food. Fowler (1992) lists 40 taxa of waterbirds and 11 lowland or upland birds used by the Cattail-Eater Northern Paiute of Stillwater Marsh.

Fish: Fish were available in numerous streams, wetlands, and lakes scattered through northern Nevada; in some places they contributed significantly to overall subsistence (Steward, 1938: 41; Greenspan, 1985), and in others they were only “of slight importance” (Kelly, 1932: 95). The extensive fishery at Pyramid Lake focused on the endemic cui-ui sucker, lake chub, Lahontan cutthroat trout, and other smaller fry (Fowler, 1989). Cutthroat trout could also be taken at Summit Lake and in the Quinn River system. The Humboldt River and its tributaries boasted a variety of suckers, lake chub, cutthroat trout, whitefish, minnows, redsides, dace, sculpin, and others. These were captured using a variety of methods including harpoons and elaborate dams and weirs (Steward, 1938: 41). Anadromous salmonids (including bull trout, Columbia River redband trout, and Chinook salmon) and other fish of the Columbia River system occurred in headwaters of the Snake River in northeastern Nevada, including the Owyhee and Bruneau rivers (Hubbs and Miller, 1948). Remains of fish often occur in significant quantities archaeologically (e.g., Follett, 1963). At Pie Creek Shelter, for example, a large fish assemblage included at least two different suckers, minnow, cutthroat trout, Lahontan redside, whitefish, and sculpin (Butler, 2004).

Insects: A few types of insects sometimes served as food, including ant eggs, larvae, and certain caterpillars, but the most important were Mormon crickets. These crickets periodically occur in appalling abundance in northern Nevada, principally in sagebrush communities. Mormon cricket meal is a very rich and nourishing source of protein (crude weight 58%) and fat (16.5%); a kilogram of dried Mormon crickets yields 2800 kcal (DeFoliart et al., 1982). Madsen and Kirkman (1988) report on similar collection of grasshoppers that yielded astonishing caloric return rates. In swarm years, Mormon crickets would have been a major food bonanza.

Paleoenvironments of the Northern Tier

David Rhode

In its heyday, Pleistocene Lake Lahontan covered much of northwestern Nevada below ~4380 ft in elevation, including that portion of the study corridor that runs through the Black Rock Desert, Desert Valley, Kings River Valley, Quinn River Valley, Silver State Valley, and Paradise Valley. This vast lake grew via a combination of cold ambient temperatures impeding evaporation and high stream flows from the Humboldt River and streams feeding off the Sierra Nevada. These flows were produced by heavy winter storms directed toward the Lahontan watershed by a polar jet stream deflected south of its modern position (Antevs, 1948; Benson et al., 1990, 2012; Thompson et al., 1993). Lake Lahontan last stood at its highest level at approximately 15,500 cal b.p. (Benson et al., 1995; Adams and Wesnousky, 1998; Benson et al., 2012). Soon after, the lake declined rapidly, receding ~300 ft in depth by 13,900 cal b.p. (Thompson et al., 1986; Adams et al., 2008). The valleys of the Upper Lahontan Basin through which the study corridor passes have remained above the lake’s waters ever since.

It is in this postpluvial setting of declining lake levels that our cultural chronology begins. Humans are likely to have lived in the northwestern Great Basin since at least ~14,400 cal b.p. (Jenkins et al., 2012, 2014), while Lake Lahontan underwent its rapid drawdown. The cultural sequence that ensued after this initial occupation (elaborated upon in chap. 3) provides the framework for our discussion of environmental change through the terminal Pleistocene and Holocene. Of course, cultural phases do not always line up with distinct intervals of significant environmental change, and significant episodes of environmental change often occur within recognized cultural phases; in the following discussion, some cultural phases are subdivided by significant environmental changes (see table 7).

Paleoindian (14,500–12,800 cal b.p.)

The Paleoindian Period roughly overlaps the Bølling-Allerød interstadial (~14,700–12,900 cal b.p.), a period of rapid warming of the Northern Hemisphere (Alley and Clark, 1999; Shakun and Carlson, 2010; Clark et al., 2012). Warming temperatures, coupled with changes in oceanic and atmospheric circulation patterns, led to drier conditions in much of the Great Basin (Benson et al., 2012), though summer temperatures were still cooler than today (Wigand and Rhode, 2002). The drying trend resulted in the rapid decline of Lake Lahontan, as noted above, and of the great Lake Bonneville to the east, both of which had dropped steeply by about 15,000 cal b.p. (Benson et al., 2010, 2012).

In contrast, some lakes in the northern Great Basin rose to high levels during this interval. Lake Chewaucan, in southeastern Oregon, expanded beginning ~14,700 years ago to reach a depth of more than 100 ft by 13,800 cal b.p., and then within the next two centuries it declined again to low levels (Friedel, 1994; Licciardi, 2001). Paisley Caves overlooks the Lake Chewaucan Basin, and the people who may have lived there 14,400 years ago would have seen the playa floor covered with a sizeable sheet of lake water, though this was the heart of the Bølling “dry” interval. Benson et al. (1990) suggest that the rise of Lake Chewaucan, at the same time that Lake Lahontan was declining, indicates a northward shifting of the polar jet stream during this period.

As Lake Lahontan retreated, diverse lowland vegetation associations colonized the valley floors and margins in a mixture of montane and sagebrush steppe plants (Nowak et al., 1994). Trees and shrubs grew at elevations significantly lower than they do today (Thompson, 1984: 44–45). Western juniper expanded its range in the Lahontan Basin by 14,000 cal b.p., with whitebark pine present in some piedmont settings (Thompson et al., 1986; Nowak et al., 1994; Wigand and Rhode, 2002). Whitebark pine grows only in high subalpine settings today, so the fact that it occupied locations more than 3500 ft below its modern limits indicates significantly colder temperatures and greater effective moisture, though not quite as cold as during the last glacial maximum. On this basis, Wigand has estimated that mean annual temperature in northwestern Nevada at ~13,850–13,350 cal b.p. was ~11° F cooler than today (Nowak et al., 1994; Wigand and Rhode, 2002).

Low temperatures combined with relatively low precipitation also prevailed during this time period in the western Bonneville Basin, near the east end of the corridor (Rhode and Madsen, 1995; Rhode, 2000: 144–145). Limber pine woodlands mixed with sagebrush steppe grew at elevations as low as 4900 ft, close to the Provo level of Pleistocene Lake Bonneville. These cold but dry-adapted lowland woodland and steppe communities lacked the mesic montane meadow shrubs that had grown at low elevations during Lake Bonneville’s high stand. Subalpine fir and spruce grew in upland canyons in nearby mountains. Limber pine woodlands persisted in lowlands until 13,400 cal b.p., with remnant stands lasting until at least 12,900 cal b.p. Xeric-adapted desert shrubs first appeared in the western Bonneville Basin lowlands beginning about 12,900 cal b.p., as the Paleoindian Period was coming to an end.

Although Lake Bonneville stood at low levels below the Provo shoreline, fish bones found in packrat middens and from the basal stratum of Homestead Cave dating older than ~13,100 cal b.p. suggest that a lake sufficiently cold and fresh to support a diverse fish fauna persisted (Rhode and Madsen, 1995; Broughton et al., 2000; Madsen et al., 2001; Hart et al., 2004). Further regression of the lake sometime between 13,100 and 12,300 cal b.p. resulted in a significant fish die-off, though some coldwater fish species continued to live in the lake (and their remains were deposited in Homestead Cave) into the early Holocene (Broughton, 2000).

Unfortunately, for this time period, we currently have little paleoenvironmental information about that long segment of the study corridor between the Lahontan Basin on the west and the Bonneville Basin on the east. Mehringer’s (1985) generalized view of pre-Holocene, postglacial vegetation in the northern Great Basin remains reasonable: a broad sagebrush-dominated steppe with abundant grasses and few conifers. Certainly the northern Basin environment was more diverse than that, but obtaining a more refined record will require new studies of alluvial sequences, sediment cores, and packrat middens from the uplands of the High Rock Country, the Upper Humboldt Plains, and the Thousand Springs Valley.

Paleoarchaic (12,800–7800 cal b.p.)

This cultural period incorporates two distinct climatic intervals: the Younger Dryas and the early Holocene climatic period that Antevs (1948) termed the “Anathermal.” These are discussed separately.

Younger Dryas (12,800–11,700 cal b.p.): A globally recognized reversion to colder Northern Hemisphere temperatures at the close of the last deglaciation process, the Younger Dryas is thought to have been triggered by a shutoff of Atlantic meridional ocean circulation and resulting cooling of the North Atlantic (Alley and Clark, 1999; Shakun and Carlson, 2010; Clark et al., 2012). Its climatic effects in North America and the rest of the world were geographically complex (Meltzer and Holliday, 2010; Shakun and Carlson, 2010). In the Great Basin, the Younger Dryas appears to have been a period of greater effective moisture, resulting from lower overall temperatures, but evidence for enhanced precipitation is uncertain. Madsen (1999: 78) considered the interval to be exceptionally variable on an annual-to-decadal scale compared with today, such that “early Great Basin foragers were being whipsawed from one climatic extreme to another, often within periods of less than a decade.” On the other hand, he also regarded the interval as seasonally equable, with significantly cooler summers and winters not much cooler than today. Whether these conditions applied in the Great Basin during the Younger Dryas remains to be more fully confirmed with paleoenvironmental records.

Cooler Younger Dryas–age temperatures have been documented in paleoenvironmental records in the Sierra Nevada and along the Pacific Coast (Hendy et al., 2002; Barron et al., 2003; MacDonald et al., 2008), and these cooler conditions may have resulted in increased effective moisture in the Great Basin as well. Sierra Nevada glaciers had melted by 13,100 cal b.p., however, and do not appear to have had any significant Younger Dryas readvance (Clark and Gillespie, 1997), perhaps for lack of sufficient snowfall. Other nonglacial Sierra Nevada records indicate only slight cooling during the Younger Dryas interval (e.g., Porinchu et al., 2003).

Lake Lahontan rose once more during the Younger Dryas period, reaching elevations of 4025 ft (perhaps 4035 ft) in the western subbasins (Briggs et al., 2005; Adams et al., 2008; Benson et al., 2012). A level of 4035 ft would have placed the lake’s shoreline somewhere just south of the corridor in the East Arm of the Black Rock Desert. Briggs et al. (2005) dated one deposit to the early Younger Dryas at ~12,700 cal b.p., but the lake’s rise may have begun somewhat earlier (Benson et al., 2012).

Utah juniper grew west of Pyramid Lake and in the Smoke Creek Desert, associated with sagebrush, shadscale, greasebush, wild rose, and rabbitbrush (Nowak et al., 1994; Wigand and Rhode, 2002). Whitebark pine and mountain mahogany had disappeared from lower elevations by this time. At higher elevations, pine forests mixed with sagebrush-grass steppe are reflected in the 9000 ft elevation Patterson Lake pollen record in the Warner Mountains, west of the corridor (Minckley et al., 2007).

Prior to ~11,000 cal b.p., the middle reach of the Humboldt River flowed as a large river, carving huge meanders across its floodplain (House et al., 2001; Miller et al., 2004). We do not know when it began to aggrade its floodplain, but most likely it began at the onset of the Younger Dryas. Other records point to increased streamflow and shallow regional water tables during roughly this same interval: at Sunshine Wells, east-central Nevada, gravel channel fill indicating active stream aggradation date between ~13,500 and 11,300 cal b.p. (Huckleberry et al., 2001).

As the Humboldt River helped raise Lake Lahontan’s level in the west, a moderately large lake filled the Lake Franklin basin in Ruby Valley, east of the Ruby Mountains, at ~12,700–12,300 cal b.p. (Thompson, 1992). Vegetation here was dominated by sagebrush grass steppe, with pollen evidence of conifers growing in the region, but not nearby.

At the eastern end of the study corridor, in the western Bonneville Basin, the Younger Dryas is marked by an expansion of Lake Bonneville to cover the Great Salt Lake Desert and form the Gilbert Shoreline (Oviatt et al., 1992). Oviatt et al. (2005) dated this expansion to sometime between ~12,900 and 11,900 cal b.p., noting that the actual time the lake stayed at the Gilbert Shoreline level was likely brief, perhaps on the order of decades, and that its level fluctuated significantly during its brief rise. Deposition of fish bones at Homestead Cave was much reduced during the Younger Dryas interval (Broughton, 2000). Big sagebrush-grass steppe grew extensively in the lowlands, as the mammal record from Homestead Cave (Grayson, 1998, 2000, 2006) and the packrat midden record (Rhode, 2000) reveal. Limber pine woodlands disappeared from low elevations by the early Younger Dryas (Rhode and Madsen, 1995); perhaps the climate was too warm in the summer for their continued lowland growth. The pollen record from Blue Lake, at the margin of the Great Salt Lake Desert south of Wendover, shows high values of pine and sagebrush initially but subsequent declines near the end of the Younger Dryas as saltbush, greasewood, and marshlands colonized the former lake bed and valleys (Louderback and Rhode, 2009). These changes suggest cool conditions in the Younger Dryas, but somewhat warmer than during the previous Bølling-Allerød, a warming trend that gained momentum into the early Holocene.

Early Holocene (11,700–8500 cal b.p.): The early Holocene began the transition to the warmer and drier climate of the middle Holocene. Significantly drier conditions prevailed in the Pacific Northwest, and wetter conditions appear to have prevailed in the American Southwest (Thompson et al., 1993; Miller et al., 2004). Predictably, the project area falls in the middle of this dipole pattern. Strengthened Northern Hemisphere summer solar insolation probably resulted in greater seasonality than at present.

While the beginning date of this period marks the rapid and dramatic shift from the Younger Dryas, the end date is arbitrary, as the early to mid-Holocene transition is gradual, not abrupt, and the timing varies among different records and areas. The end date also does not line up with the proposed end of the Paleoarchaic cultural period adopted in this volume, but that endpoint (the eruption of Mount Mazama) is a geologic (not cultural) marker event that had only transitory climatic and environmental consequences in much of our region (but see Chatters, 2012; Delacorte and Basgall, 2012). The proposed end date does, however, accord with some significant changes in prehistoric peoples’ land-use patterns (e.g., abandonment of drying marshes in the Bonneville Basin; Oviatt et al., 2003; Rhode et al., 2005), resource procurement technology (e.g., intensified small-seed processing at Danger Cave; Rhode et al., 2006; Rhode, 2008), and a general decline in estimated human population densities in the Great Basin (Baumhoff and Heizer, 1965; Louderback et al., 2011).

Sometime after ~11,600 cal b.p., Lake Lahontan rapidly declined, falling below 3840 ft within a few hundred years and effectively ending the Lahontan lake cycle. Evidence from several subbasins of the Lahontan system suggests that lakes may have enlarged at times during the early Holocene, but these smaller lakes stayed below the sills of their separate subbasins and did not join together as they had in the Younger Dryas (Davis, 1982; Adams et al., 2008). Lakes to the north (e.g., Malheur Lake) also rose to above-modern high stands several times during the early Holocene (Gehr, 1980; Dugas, 1998). Extensive cattail marshes replaced lakes in some of these basins, as well as in the northwestern Great Basin, until at least ~10,800 years ago (Wigand and Mehringer, 1985; Wigand and Rhode, 2002: 321). Thereafter, greasewood and saltbush communities increasingly colonized playa margins and lower valley floors (Hansen, 1947; Mehringer, 1985). To the east, in the western Snake River Plain, saltbush steppe and greasewood scrub invaded what had been grassland during the Younger Dryas (Henry, 1984).

Early Holocene vegetation near the western end of the corridor was grassy sagebrush steppe with sparse juniper, reflecting relatively moister conditions compared with the present (e.g., Bicycle Pond; Wigand and Rhode, 2002: 321–322). In the Lahontan Basin, Utah juniper died out at low elevations by 10,800 cal b.p. but expanded northward into the uplands of the High Rock Country (Wigand and Rhode, 2002: 323). Higher elevations in the nearby mountains of the northwestern Great Basin were covered in pine forests and steppe grasslands, but with an increasing abundance of sagebrush through the early Holocene (e.g., Patterson Lake; Minckley et al., 2007) or by sagebrush-grass steppe with common juniper (e.g., Fish Lake; Mehringer, 1985).

Climatic reconstructions based on pollen derived by Minckley et al. (2007) contrast sharply with a picture of cool early Holocene temperatures. They suggest that the prevailing climate was significantly warmer and drier during the early Holocene (~9300 cal b.p.) than at present—as much as 7° F warmer with 4–8 inches less precipitation. This holds true at high elevations (~9000 ft); their temperature reconstructions for lower elevations fall within the modern range or are slightly cooler than modern in the winter. These results reflect a time when summer solar insolation was at its Holocene peak (Kutzbach and Webb, 1993) and summer temperatures would expectably be elevated. The reconstructions suggest that seasonal swings in temperature and precipitation were significantly enhanced (Broughton et al., 2008). Grayson (2011) notes that these reconstructions are similar to those for the neighboring Sierra Nevada and Cascades, but differ from parts of the Great Basin to the southeast and east.

By about ~10,800 cal b.p., the Humboldt River had ceased to be a great meandering, aggrading river and instead became a much smaller stream that supported valley bottom stability, minor localized aggradation, and development of extensive marshlands within its floodplain (House et al., 2001; Miller et al., 2004). Generally moist conditions are thought to have persisted along the Humboldt River floodplain up to the deposition of Mazama ash at ~7600 cal b.p.

In Ruby Valley, Lake Franklin remained deeper at the beginning of the Holocene than at present, but gradually declined so that by the time of deposition of the Mazama tephra, the water level was lower than today (Thompson, 1992). Sagebrush steppe vegetation declined in abundance beginning ~9500–9000 cal b.p. and was partially supplanted by saltbush desert and salt marsh grasses in the Ruby Valley lowlands. At nearby Sunshine Wells, perennial stream flow also decreased significantly after 11,300 cal b.p. and generally ceased after 10,200 cal b.p., but water tables remained high, supporting localized riparian communities (and the formation of black mats) until ~9500 cal b.p. (Huckleberry et al., 2001). After this time, riparian/wetland conditions gave over to silty alluvium and aeolian dune deposition for the remainder of the Holocene.

In the Bonneville Basin, desert shrubs prevailed in the lowlands, with sagebrush-grass steppe at higher elevations on valley margins and midslopes of uplands. The pollen record from Blue Lake shows that shallow ponds developed after about 11,700 cal b.p., and extensive peat-forming marshes developed beginning about 11,000 cal b.p. (Louderback and Rhode, 2009). Sagebrush and pine pollen decreased dramatically, and pollen of desert shrubs and grass increased in abundance significantly from 11,000 to 9500 cal b.p.; the desert shrub component continued to be dominant until ~7000 cal b.p. Nearby pollen records confirm the timing and magnitude of regional vegetation shifts by about 9000–8500 cal b.p. (Bright, 1966; Madsen and Currey, 1979; Mehringer, 1985; Beiswenger, 1991).

This record of increased drying and a shift from sagebrush-steppe to desert-shrub communities during the early Holocene is mirrored by the mammal fauna record from Homestead Cave, which shows a dramatic decline in mammals adapted to cooler montane environments that was nearly complete by ~9000 cal b.p. (Grayson, 2000, 2011; cf. Schmitt et al., 2002). This shift has also been observed in Bonneville Estates Rockshelter (Schmitt and Lupo, 2012; Hockett, 2015). A mosaic of sagebrush-grass steppe and mesophilic aspen and montane brush communities with few conifers dominated the uplands. Rocky Mountain juniper dominated midslope woodlands in northern areas (Utah juniper and pinyon pine apparently did not arrive until the end of the early Holocene); limber and whitebark pines retreated to higher elevations and protected canyons.

Climate models have suggested that greater seasonality, particularly higher summer temperatures, might have resulted in stronger summer monsoonal precipitation in continental settings such as the Great Basin (Thompson et al., 1993). However, biotic records in the northern Great Basin, such as the Homestead Cave record, do not appear to support these models (Grayson, 2000, 2011). Possibly the lingering presence of large continental glacier remnants in subarctic North America (Wanner et al., 2011) kept northerly continental areas, including the northern Great Basin, sufficiently cool and dry in the summer to limit the advance of summer convective storms to more southerly regions.

Middle Holocene (8500–3800 cal b.p.)

Post-Mazama and Early Archaic Periods

This long middle Holocene period in the northern Great Basin includes the Post-Mazama and Early Archaic cultural periods and can be divided into two main environmental eras: pre- and post-6300 cal b.p. (Mensing et al., 2004). Before that date, the warm dry conditions that had begun in the early Holocene deepened, culminating in the driest conditions of the Holocene. Dry conditions expanded to a much larger region from the Pacific Northwest south into the Great Basin and American Southwest, including our project area (Thompson et al., 1993). This extended dry period appears to have resulted from suppressed ENSO variability, coupled with the absence of significant monsoonal conditions in the American Southwest (Clement et al., 2000; Barron et al., 2005). After 6300 cal b.p., drought conditions ameliorated, though climate was still quite variable. As middle Holocene climates fluctuated, pinyon pine and Utah juniper migrated into the northeastern Great Basin, and western juniper expanded its range in the west.

Early Middle Holocene (8500–6300 cal b.p.): In the northwestern Great Basin, pollen data from several sites indicate that the climate that typified the period between 9800–6400 cal b.p. was the driest to occur there during the Holocene (Wigand and Rhode, 2002: 325; see also Mehringer, 1986). Lake basins apparently dried and extensive dune systems developed during this period (Mehringer and Wigand, 1986; Dugas, 1998). The high-resolution pollen record from Diamond Pond (Wigand, 1987) indicates that saltbush desert prevailed and the water table stood at ~17 m below modern levels prior to 6200 cal b.p.

A sediment and pollen record from Pyramid Lake spanning much of the past ~7600 years shows evidence for extensive, persistent droughts in the western Great Basin (Benson et al., 2002; Mensing et al., 2004). The early part of the middle Holocene was apparently the driest, with several major centennial-scale droughts. We lack a packrat midden record for the Lahontan basin during this time (Nowak et al., 1994; Wigand and Rhode, 2002), but pollen from Pyramid Lake shows expansion of desert-shrub vegetation (Mensing et al., 2004). The end of this sequence corresponds with the death date of a submerged tree stump in Lake Tahoe, indicating that the lake stood 4 m below its sill for a century or more before ~6300 cal b.p. (Lindström, 1990). During this 1300 year dry interval, one brief but intense wet period between 7000 and 6800 cal b.p. is indicated in the sediment chemistry and the abundance of pine pollen, though not in any evident changes in local vegetation (Mensing et al., 2004).

From ~7700 to 5500 cal b.p., the middle Humboldt River underwent such a decline that a widespread unconformity exists in the alluvial record, with windblown silt taking its place (House et al., 2001; Miller et al., 2004). The lack of an alluvial record suggests that this part of the river all but ceased to flow; Humboldt Lake, which it feeds, did indeed dry up (Byrne et al., 1979). The Ruby Marshes shallowed through the time of deposition of Mazama tephra and continued dry until ~5400 cal b.p. (Thompson, 1992); sagebrush and pine declined and saltbush shrubs increased in abundance. Juniper woodlands and sagebrush steppe increased in abundance at the expense of subalpine forests in the Jarbidge Mountains (Thompson, 1984).

At the far eastern end of the corridor, northwestern Utah also saw significant declines in sagebrush and increases in saltbush shrubs in the lowlands, an indication of greater aridity, prior to ~6300 cal b.p. (Mehringer, 1985; Louderback and Rhode, 2009). Wetlands along the margins of the Great Salt Lake desert diminished in extent or dried up altogether (Kiahtipes, 2009; Louderback and Rhode, 2009). The Great Salt Lake apparently fell to very low levels in the middle Holocene (Currey, 1980), though Murchison (1989) reports two expansions of the lake to above the modern average at ~8200 and ~6700 cal b.p. Packrat midden evidence shows that limber pine and Rocky Mountain juniper persisted in eastern Great Basin uplands, at least in protected settings (Rhode, 2000). Meanwhile, pinyon pine had migrated northward through eastern Nevada to reach the uplands near Wendover by about 7500 cal b.p. (Rhode and Madsen, 1998; Rhode, 2000).

Late Middle Holocene (6300–3800 cal b.p.): In the northwestern Great Basin, increasing sagebrush pollen and evidence of pond vegetation at Diamond Pond indicate wetter conditions after 6200 cal b.p. (Wigand, 1987). Juniper and pine also increased at Bicycle Pond after 6300 cal b.p. (Wigand and Rhode, 2002). At higher elevations, sagebrush declined and pine-fir forests or grassy meadows spread after ~6300 cal b.p. (Mehringer, 1985; Minckley et al., 2007).

A shift toward a wetter climate in the Pyramid Lake area began around 6300 cal b.p., with an increase in sagebrush relative to saltbush and a concomitant increase in pine. This comparatively moist period apparently persisted until ~5200 cal b.p., when another severe period of drought ensued. This drought is correlated with a series of submerged tree stumps rooted at depths up to 1.3 m below Lake Tahoe’s sill, dating between ~5600 and 5000 cal b.p. (Lindström, 1990; Benson et al., 2002). After 5000 cal b.p., Lake Tahoe rose above its sill again, spilling into the Truckee River and ultimately feeding Pyramid Lake’s rise (Mensing et al., 2004). The Pyramid Lake record documents two other extended periods of middle Holocene drought (~4700–4300 and 3900–3800 cal b.p.). Overall, wetter conditions after 6300 cal b.p. are identified in a number of Sierra Nevada pollen records, while the drought episodes are less well documented (Morrison, 2003; Mensing et al., 2004; but see Adam, 1967).

From 5500 to 3500 cal b.p., middle Humboldt River floodplain aggradation gradually increased, indicating greater flow in the river after its long hiatus (House et al., 2001; Miller et al., 2004). At the Ruby Marshes, lower than modern water levels persisted through the middle Holocene until 5400 cal b.p., continuing the dominance of saltbush scrub. After 5400 cal b.p., pinyon pine and Utah juniper migrated into the mountains surrounding the valley.

A stratified alluvial sequence on Mahala Creek, in the Independence Mountains near the study corridor, reveals six major channel cut-and-fill units spanning ~7800 years (Madsen, 1985). Pollen analysis of the sequence yielded a fairly stable record of sagebrush-steppe vegetation surrounding Mahala Creek through much of the middle and late Holocene, with one major exception. Pinyon pine pollen began to increase quickly in abundance at ~5400 cal b.p., declined somewhat after 4300 cal b.p., and rose again for the remainder of the Holocene. This increase reflects the arrival of pinyon pine into the northern reaches of its range as part of its Holocene migration northward (Thompson and Hattori, 1983; Thompson, 1990). A few other subtle differences in the Mahala Creek pollen record are observable, including higher values of juniper, oak, and dandelion prior to ~5400 cal b.p. and greater values of willow after this date, possibly indicating greater local moisture supporting riparian vegetation.

In the Bonneville Basin, sagebrush increased at the expense of saltbush scrub after ~6300 cal b.p., indicating a return to moister conditions in the latter half of the middle Holocene (Mehringer, 1985; Louderback and Rhode, 2009). The Blue Lake record documents a significant increase in pine pollen, reflecting the spread of pinyon pine into the surrounding uplands, as pinyon pine macrofossils in archaeological sites and packrat middens also show (Rhode and Madsen, 1995, 1998; Rhode, 2008).

Middle Archaic (3800–1300 cal b.p.)

Numerous records point to a significantly cooler and moister period after ~5000–4500 cal b.p., often referred to as the Medithermal (Antevs, 1948), Neoglacial (Porter and Denton, 1967), or Neopluvial (Currey and James, 1982). In the northwestern Great Basin, enhanced effective moisture raised Diamond Pond to its deepest Holocene level at ~4000 cal b.p.; juniper woodland mixed with grasses spread into the area (~500 ft lower than its modern extent) and persisted until ~2000 cal b.p. (Wigand, 1987). Juniper woodland expanded in low elevations at ~4000, 2800, and 2300 cal b.p., consistent with episodes of pine-fir forest expansion east of Lake Tahoe (Wigand and Rhode, 2002: 326). Mehringer (1985) reported a decline in juniper pollen in the high-elevation Fish Lake record, suggesting that colder temperatures may have forced down upper treelines (see also LaMarche, 1973; Scuderi, 1987). Evidence for limited growth of glaciers dating between 3900 and 3200 cal b.p. in the Sierra Nevada and elsewhere in western North America (Konrad and Clark, 1998; Osborn and Bevis, 2001; Koch and Clague, 2006; Bowerman and Clark, 2011) also signals colder high-elevation temperatures.

Woodlands and forests expanded their range in much of the northern and central Great Basin (Thompson and Kautz, 1983; Thompson, 1984, 1992; Madsen, 1985). At Mission Cross Bog, cool wet conditions are documented from 4000 to 3300 cal b.p., broken up by a few intervals of drought (Norman, 2007). Farther north, in the western Snake River Plain, the period from ~3800–2600 cal b.p. was one of the coolest and most mesic of the Holocene (Henry, 1984; but cf. Doerner and Carrara, 2001).

As noted previously, the middle reach of the Humboldt River gradually increased, aggrading its existing floodplain through about 3500 cal b.p., feeding its terminal lakes and wetlands in the Humboldt and Carson sinks (Byrne et al., 1979; Davis, 1985; Wigand and Mehringer, 1985) and supporting the ~4200–4000 cal b.p. occupation of Hidden Cave (Thomas, 1985). From ~3200 to ~2600 cal b.p., the “relatively dynamic river” migrated across its floodplain and formed substantial levees through overbank aggradation, at a time of “persistently wet conditions” (Miller et al., 2004: 79). In Ruby Valley, saltbush shrub vegetation decreased (but remained more expansive than today), sagebrush increased in abundance, and waters deepened in the Ruby Marshes, all suggesting greater effective moisture after ~4900 cal b.p. (Thompson, 1992).

In the Bonneville Basin, the highest Holocene stage of Great Salt Lake is estimated to have occurred sometime between ~3200 and 2000 cal b.p., extending across the Great Salt Lake Desert (Mehringer, 1985; McKenzie and Eberli, 1987; Murchison, 1989; Currey, 1990). This expanded lake may have been fresh enough to support fish (Broughton, 2000; Madsen et al., 2001). Grayson (2000, 2011) reports the recolonization of several different montane and mesophilic mammals to lowland habitats around Homestead Cave during the late Holocene, responding to cooler and moister conditions. Generally moister conditions are also shown at Crescent Springs beginning ~4000–3400 cal b.p. and 2800–2200 cal b.p., with drier conditions in-between (Mehringer, 1985). The Blue Lake record (not inundated by the Holocene high-stand expansion) reveals significantly greater abundance of pine as pinyon pine forests increased in density after ~3700 cal b.p. Sagebrush maintained moderately high proportions from ~4500 to 3400 cal b.p., declined relative to saltbush shrubs from 3400 to 2700 cal b.p., and then rebounded from 2700 to 1500 cal b.p., similar to the Crescent Spring record. In some localities, juniper grew 200–300 ft lower in elevation between 3800 and 3000 cal b.p. than they do at present (Rhode, 2000). Byers and Broughton (2004) argue that enhanced late Holocene moisture increases led to greater abundance of large artiodactyls and, possibly, greater frequency of large artiodactyl hunting (but see Hockett, 2005; McGuire and Hildebrandt, 2005).

After ~2600 cal b.p., the Great Basin appears to have been drier, with persistent drought between 2500 and 2000 b.p. comparable to arid conditions recorded during the middle Holocene (Mensing et al., 2004). In central Nevada upland valleys, this period of extended drought is indicated by hillslope erosion as a result of diminished vegetation cover, active deposition on alluvial fans, upland valley aggradation followed by stream incision, conversion of wet meadows to dry flats, and low plant diversity in packrat middens (Miller et al., 2004; Tausch et al., 2004).

Recurrent multidecadal droughts have punctuated the last two millennia, as shown by the robust tree-ring record of drought severity in North America (Cook et al., 2004). These reconstructions and available sedimentary records (Wigand, 1987; Carter, 1995; Allan, 2003; Smith, 2003; Norman, 2007) reveal a series of decadal and multidecadal droughts, as well as intervening moist intervals. Some of these droughts or wet periods affected only a portion of the northern Great Basin, while others span the entire project area (Mensing et al., 2008). Some localized droughts or wet periods might have been more pervasive, but determining their extent would require better chronological control and cross correlation of the records that document them. The pattern of late Holocene droughts culminated in the centennial-scale, widespread dry periods that characterized part of the Late Archaic of the MCA, ~1100–700 cal b.p. (Stine, 1994; Meko et al., 2001, 2007; Benson et al., 2002).

Late Archaic (1300–600 cal b.p.)

This cultural phase spans a period of distinctive late Holocene climatic patterns linked with the MCA, a period of warmer climates in many parts of the globe (Lamb, 1965; Graham et al., 2007). In the Great Basin, the period is noted for two primary reasons: prolonged droughts in much of western North America (Benson et al., 2007; Oglesby et al., 2012) and increased influx of growing-season moisture in the eastern Great Basin and American Southwest that enhanced production of grasses, including maize. The dry periods appear to be related to the effects of relatively warm surface waters in the Atlantic Ocean (i.e., a positive AMO) combined with relatively cool surface waters in the eastern Pacific Ocean (a negative PDO; McCabe et al., 2004; MacDonald and Case, 2005; Trouet et al., 2009; Oglesby et al., 2012), and possibly the influence of enhanced solar irradiance (Crowley, 2000; Mensing et al., 2004, 2008; Tausch et al., 2004; Wanner et al., 2008).

The record of pervasive, century-scale dry intervals during this period in the Great Basin and western North America is well documented. Telling pieces of evidence for the droughts’ environmental impact include the widespread occurrence of now-submerged tree stumps in the Sierra Nevada and western Great Basin (Lindström, 1990; Stine, 1994; Benson, 2004; Yuan et al., 2004); tree-ring records in the Sierra Nevada (Graumlich, 1993; Hughes and Graumlich, 1996); and droughts recorded in the sediment records of lakes, ponds, and wetlands across the Great Basin, including Mono Lake (Stine, 1990), Pyramid Lake (Benson et al., 2002; Mensing et al., 2004), Blue Lake in the Pine Forest Range (Carter, 1995), Mission Cross Bog (Allan, 2003), and the Great Salt Lake (Madsen et al., 2001). The impacts of these extended droughts on cultural dynamics have been the subject of much recent archaeological discussion (e.g., Jones et al., 1999; Benson et al., 2007).

These drought records typically show two major episodes—approximately 1100–900 and 800–650 cal b.p.—with a brief and intense moist period separating them. This wet period appears to have been global in extent and coincided with an interval of reduced solar activity (Wanner et al., 2008). Adams (2003) has suggested that the Carson Sink filled with a moderately deep lake during this brief middrought interval. The lake would have been large enough to submerge the Carson Sink’s Stillwater Marsh and Humboldt Sink, directly affecting peoples’ land-use and resource-procurement patterns in northern Nevada. If so, high levels of precipitation in the headwaters of both Sierra Nevada streams and the Humboldt River would be necessary to fill a lake of this volume (Benson and Thompson, 1987; Adams, 2003). At present, further evidence and dating are needed to test this hypothesis (Grayson, 2011).

The record of increased summer precipitation in the late Archaic is less well established, though its effect on the success of Fremont farmers and the activities of other native groups may have been equally profound. Enhanced summer precipitation beginning ~1400–1300 cal b.p. is inferred on the basis of increased grass pollen at Diamond Pond (Wigand, 1987) and Blue Lake in the Pine Forest Range (Carter, 1995), both at the western end of the corridor. Similarly, several lines of evidence point to higher summer-fed grass pollen on the eastern end of the line, in the Bonneville Basin (Harper and Alder, 1970; Kelso, 1970; Newman, 1996; Rhode, 2000; Kiahtipes, 2009). Grayson (2006, 2011) highlights the evident connection between increased summer precipitation, increased grass production, and expanded distribution of bison in the northern and eastern Great Basin during this interval.

Terminal Prehistoric (600–150 cal b.p.)

In climatic terms, this cultural period coincides with the Little Ice Age, a cold period recognized in many parts of the world (Grove, 2004), including the Sierra Nevada, where the term was first used to refer to late Holocene glacial advances (Matthes, 1939; Clark and Gillespie, 1997). The cause of the Little Ice Age appears to have been a coincidence of lower summer insolation in the Northern Hemisphere owing to global orbital dynamics, shifts in ocean circulation, a particularly active period of tropical volcanic eruptions leading to hazier skies, and weakened solar inputs (Grove, 2004; Miller et al., 2004; Wanner et al., 2008).

Multiple lines of evidence point to cooler and moister conditions in the Great Basin at this time. Glaciers advanced in the Sierra Nevada (Clark and Gillespie, 1997; Bowerman and Clark, 2011) and in some high wet mountains in the Great Basin (Osborn and Bevis, 2001). Tree-ring sequences from the Sierra Nevada and White Mountains record cooler temperatures and, in some records, enhanced precipitation (Graumlich, 1993; Feng and Epstein, 1994; Hughes and Graumlich, 1996). The tree-ring-based drought reconstructions of Cook et al. (2004) show generally less droughty conditions than the previous MCA, with especially cool temperatures 350–330 years ago. Treelines lowered in high mountains (LaMarche, 1973; Lloyd and Graumlich, 1997) as well as at lower elevations for pinyon pine and juniper (Wigand and Rhode, 2002). The deepening of waters and development of peatlands in the Ruby Marshes, and increases of sagebrush steppe vegetation in Ruby Valley after ~500 cal b.p., suggest some of the wettest conditions here since the early Holocene (Thompson, 1992). Farther east in the Bonneville Basin, cooler and more mesic conditions are reflected in the late prehistoric rise of the Great Salt Lake to cover much of the Great Salt Lake Desert to the west (Currey, 1990).

The Little Ice Age was distinctly cooler and more mesic overall than the preceding MCA, though obviously the climate did vary on multidecadal scales. The tree-ring-based drought reconstructions show episodes of persistent drought centered around 570, 530, 430 and 350 cal b.p., and mesic periods centered around 670, 450, and 400 cal b.p. (Cook et al., 2008). At Diamond Pond, in the northwestern Great Basin, the period started out in a drought but became more mesic between 300 and 150 cal b.p., enhancing the spread of juniper and grass vegetation (Wigand, 1987). At Blue Lake in the Pine Forest Range, two notable droughts combined with forest fires occurred at ~500–440 cal b.p. and ~300 cal b.p. (Carter, 1995). Pine and grass abundance resurged after each fire. This high-resolution record indicates the variable vegetation history and possible cooling without significant increases in effective moisture in the past few hundred years. A similar high-resolution pollen record developed at Mission Cross Bog (Allan, 2003) shows a drought in northeastern Nevada at ~450–250 cal b.p. but relatively mesic conditions before and after.

Periods of high interannual variance in climate may have important effects on human foraging strategies such as mobility, diet breadth, storage, intergroup interaction, and other risk-minimizing activities. The importance of interannual variation may differ depending on whether climatic conditions are relatively “good” (i.e., mesic) or “bad” (xeric) for native resource productivity. The reconstructed tree-ring record of drought severity not only shows the sequence and severity of droughts over the past 2000 years, but the data can also be used to calculate interannual variance over a period of years (e.g., 20 years). Using these two reconstructions in tandem can provide insights into how people responded to particular periods of environmental change over the last two millennia.

CHAPTER 3: CULTURAL CONTEXT OF THE NORTHERN TIER

This chapter reviews the prehistoric and ethnographic records of Nevada’s Northern Tier. The prehistoric record begins nearly 14,500 years ago and has been organized by archaeologists into a series of broad temporal periods. The following discussion of each period includes a description of critical artifact assemblages, features, subsistence remains, and land-use reconstructions generated by previous studies in the region. Based on these findings, we highlight dominant trends in the archaeological record, with the goal of identifying a series of outstanding research themes that can be addressed with the findings from this project.

Ethnographic information from the Northern Paiute and Western Shoshone help us interpret the archaeological record in a variety of ways. Day-to-day and season-to-season subsistence pursuits described by these accounts are tightly linked to the late-period artifacts and subsistence remains we discover; they enhance our ability to understand how these basic economic systems operated during the last few hundred years, as well as how these systems may have differed further back in time. With regard to questions about higher levels of social organization, not to mention the more spiritual aspects of life, linkages with the archaeological record are less direct, and ethnographic accounts take on a bigger role in helping us understand and appreciate the dynamic nature of the multiple cultures that occupied these lands in the past.

Prehistoric Background

Kelly McGuire and William Hildebrandt

The chronological framework used for this study is heavily influenced by reference to a series of time-sensitive projectile point types. The middle and late Holocene assemblages in this region appear to comport generally with the so-called short chronology of Great Basin projectile point types (Heizer, 1951; Grosscup, 1956; Baumhoff and Byrne, 1959; Heizer and Baumhoff, 1961; Lanning, 1963; Clewlow, 1967; Heizer et al., 1968; Bettinger and Taylor, 1974; O’Connell, 1975; Heizer and Hester, 1978; Thomas, 1981a, 1982; Elston, 1986; O’Connell and Inoway, 1994; McGuire, 2002). The short chronology holds that certain key dart forms, namely Northern Side-notched, Gatecliff, and Humboldt variants, did not appear in this region of the Great Basin until about 7000 years ago, and that Elko Corner-notched points did not appear until about 4000 years ago.

But as we repeatedly make clear in the following discussion, the temporal parameters for many of these types are not completely understood and likely do not comprise a lockstep unilineal sequence. In this sense, the temporal periods identified herein, and their association with particular point types, remain very much an ongoing research question. Tables 7 and 8 and the subsequent discussion represent our best attempt at a project-
wide chronological sequence. We explicitly state both the conventional (uncalibrated) radiocarbon years and the calibrated derivation for each period, relying on the latter in all discussions unless otherwise noted. This borrows heavily from previous formulations from the northwestern Great Basin (Delacorte, 1997; Hildebrandt and King, 2002), lower Humboldt and Carson sinks (Loud and Harrington, 1929; Heizer, 1951; Grosscup, 1956; Heizer and Krieger, 1956; Bennyhoff and Heizer, 1958; Heizer and Napton, 1970; Elston, 1986), and middle and upper Humboldt River watersheds (Elston and Budy, 1990; McGuire et al., 2004; McGuire and King, 2011). A concordance of this projectwide sequence with more local but still widely used sequences is also provided (fig. 13).

Fig. 13. Concordance with other local and regional sequences.

Paleoindian (14,500–12,800 cal b.p.)

Until relatively recently, most archaeologists believed that artifacts produced by Clovis people represented the oldest evidence of human occupation in North America (Haynes, 1967; Waters, 1985). These artifacts typically include fluted projectile points, large bifaces, and a variety of formal flake tools. Based on an analysis of radiocarbon dates from these ancient sites, Haynes (1992) argued that the Clovis adaptation dates between 13,390 and 12,810 cal b.p. More recently, Waters and Stafford (2007) argue for a more narrow range of 12,960 to 12,740 cal b.p., but this time range has been rejected by many other Paleoindian researchers (see Haynes et al., 2007). There are numerous cases in the Great Plains and Southwest where this rather narrow, hunting-oriented assemblage has been found in association with the butchered remains of extinct Pleistocene megafauna (Haynes and Hutson, 2014), but the association between fluted points and megafauna has never been clearly documented in the Great Basin. However, the lack of this association is not definitive, as almost all fluted point sites in the Great Basin are surface manifestations where faunal remains do not preserve. It follows, therefore, that a great deal remains to be learned about the subsistence orientation of these early people in the Great Basin.

The search for a pre-Clovis archaeological record has been an ongoing concern for several decades, and many archaeologists have claimed such a discovery. But most of these so-called discoveries have been flawed in one way or another. According to Grayson (2011), a legitimate pre-Clovis site must provide an affirmative answer to the following questions: (1) Are the findings truly archaeological (created by humans)? (2) Have they been firmly dated with radiocarbon or some other reliable means? (3) Is the deposit free from disturbance, ensuring tight associations between the artifacts and dateable material? And (4) are the findings published with a level of detail that allows an independent analysis?

Grayson (2011) identifies only one purported pre-Clovis site in North America that meets all four criteria: the Paisley Caves in south-central Oregon (Jenkins et al., 2012, 2014). To this we would add the Buttermilk Creek Complex in Texas (Waters et al., 2011a) and the Manis Mastodon site in the state of Washington (Waters et al., 2011b). The following discussion focuses on the Paisley Caves and the Manis Mastodon site, due their proximity to the current project area.

Pre-Clovis (14,500–13,800 cal b.p.): The Paisley Caves are located in the northwestern Great Basin on the margins of Summer Lake Basin, about 75 km north of Lakeview, Oregon. Paisley Cave #5 has a deep stratified deposit that includes a lower component dating from about 14,500 to 14,100 cal b.p. (12,400 to 12,200 radiocarbon years before present), which predates the earliest estimates for Clovis by 800 years. This component includes Pleistocene megafauna, as well as bifaces, debitage, cordage, butchered bone, and human coprolites, the latter documented by the presence of human DNA. Multiple radiocarbon dates were obtained from the human coprolites (Jenkins, 2007; Gilbert et al., 2008; Jenkins et al., 2012; Hockett and Jenkins, 2013).

Due to the great antiquity of this these materials, they have been subject to a great deal of scrutiny, including independent research efforts. Goldberg et al. (2009) conducted detailed analysis of the coprolites and thought that their structure and composition were more consistent with ungulate dung than with human waste; Sistiaga et al. (2014) came to similar conclusions based on their analysis of lipids from the same samples. Poinar et al. (2009) argued that the human DNA found in the specimens could have leached in from later-dating components, and they identified some carbon isotope anomalies that lead them to question the radiocarbon dates as well. Rasmussen et al. (2009), Gilbert et al. (2008), and Jenkins et al. (2012, 2014) responded to these critiques by: (1) producing comparative samples of definitive human coprolites with similar structure and composition as the Paisley specimens; (2) clearing up issues with the radiocarbon assays; and (3) making a strong case for the absence of DNA-leaching through the analysis of a series of control samples from the deposit. Based on these responses, the case for a pre-14,000 cal b.p. human occupation at the site seems quite strong (see also Grayson, 2011, for a discussion of the site).

Evidence for a pre-Clovis presence is more straightforward at the Manis Mastodon site. It is composed of a disarticulated mastodon skeleton that exhibits butchering damage and, most importantly, a bone projectile point embedded in its rib. Four radiocarbon dates from the mastodon, including the rib with the bone point, produced statistically identical ages, averaging 11,960 radiocarbon years before present, or 13,819 cal b.p. (Waters et al., 2011b). Similar to the dates from Paisley Caves, this finding predates Clovis by a significant amount (at least 400 years).

Although unequivocal evidence for pre-Clovis people is quite rare, and documented in areas only to the north, it seems possible that people were present in northern Nevada at this time. It is important to emphasize that if these people used rather simple flaked stone technologies similar to those used later in time (i.e., lacking distinctive attributes like fluted points), it might be difficult at first glance to spot archaeological materials dating to the Pleistocene. Nevertheless, our search for this material will focus on Pleistocene-aged landforms and the judicious use of obsidian hydration data.

Clovis (13,400–12,800 cal b.p.): Fluted points are relatively common in the Great Basin and the larger intermontane west, but less plentiful than east of the Rocky Mountains and in the Southwest, perhaps due to a lower intensity of archaeological survey in the former regions (Prasciumas, 2011). As noted above, the vast majority of points found in the Great Basin are from surface contexts lacking material suitable for radiocarbon assay, and none have been associated with the remains of Pleistocene megafauna. They usually occur in isolated contexts but are sometimes found in major concentrations, the most important being in the Alkali Lake Basin of southeastern Oregon (Fagan, 1988; Pinson, 2004, 2011), the Sunshine Locality of eastern Nevada (Beck and Jones, 1997, 2009, 2010), and Pleistocene Lake Tonopah in western Nevada (Pendleton, 1979; Tuohy, 1988). These concentrations show that fluted points are often associated with bifacial blanks, knives, scrapers, and gravers—but not milling tools. Both the isolates and concentrations are typically found adjacent to wetland habitats, while they almost never occur in upland settings.

Although some researchers have assumed a large-game hunting orientation in the Great Basin based on findings from the Great Plains and Southwest, Heizer and Baumhoff (1970) noted early on that the close association between fluted points and lake basins seems to indicate an adaptation to lacustrine resources rather than big-game hunting. Madsen (2002) agrees, arguing that populations dating to this early time period followed a lowland strategy that focused on higher ranked marsh resources, following an adaptation much like later Archaic people but without the extensive grinding of seeds.

The precise age of fluted points in the Great Basin remains an open question due to the lack of specimens associated with reliable radiocarbon dates (Beck and Jones, 2010; Grayson, 2011). Although Pinson (2011) argues that the projectile points from the Dietz site are essentially identical to Clovis points found farther east, Beck and Jones (2010) found that fluted points from the Great Basin are sometimes smaller than Clovis points, and tend to have deeper indentations on their bases. They also note that Great Basin assemblages often lack the blade technologies commonly associated with classic Clovis sites of the Great Plains and the Southwest. As a result of these findings, Beck and Jones (2010) argue that the Great Basin samples should be classified as Western Fluted points and not Clovis. They also hypothesize that these forms were probably derived from Clovis and arrived in the Great Basin later in time. Given the lack of robust chronological data for Western Fluted points, however, it is difficult to evaluate the temporal accuracy of their proposal.

Paleoarchaic (12,800–7800 cal b.p.)

Paleoarchaic archaeological sites are much more common than Clovis sites, and are marked by Great Basin Stemmed projectile points, large bifacial knives, crescents, gravers, scrapers and, in rare cases, hand stones and milling slabs. The Great Basin Stemmed series includes a variety of regional variants (e.g., Cougar Mountain, Parman, Lind Coulee, and Windust; Tuohy and Layton, 1979), and is characterized by weakly shouldered specimens with long, square-to-contracting stems that are often edge ground. Flaked stone crescents are also diagnostic of this time period and, as with the projectile points, exhibit grinding along their concave and convex surfaces but not on their tips. Although the function of crescents remains unknown, they are almost always made of chert, even when associated projectile points are made from obsidian, which probably indicates they were used for more heavy-duty tasks. This is partially confirmed by wear patterns on their tips, which often have been resharpened to prolong their use-life (Beck and Jones, 1997, 2009).

Most researchers have traditionally thought that Great Basin Stemmed sites postdate Clovis, which is consistent with the post-12,800 cal b.p. age of the Paleoarchaic Period used here (Fiedel and Morrow, 2012). Beck and Jones (2010, 2012), following in the footsteps of Bryan (1979), have critiqued this position, arguing that stemmed points can be older than Clovis and reflect an entirely different culture that may have entered North America via a coastal route (see also Davis et al., 2012). This hypothesis is quite intriguing, particularly given the ancient findings at Paisley Caves and the Manis Mastodon site outlined above, and the recent reporting of stemmed points within a 13,223–12,964 cal b.p. component at Paisley Caves (Jenkins et al., 2012). This component is coeval with the Haynes et al. (2007) definition of Clovis (13,400–12,800 cal b.p.), but slightly older than the extremely narrow range (12,960–12,740 cal b.p.) proposed by Waters and Stafford (2007).

Beck and Jones’ (2010: 104) summary of the oldest radiocarbon dates associated with stemmed points in the western United States shows similar findings, as only five of 25 overlap with Clovis, and none predate the Clovis interval (see also Goebel and Kenne, 2014). There are also no radiocarbon dates from the California coast or adjacent Channel Islands that overlap or predate the age of Clovis, as the oldest known date is 12,900 cal b.p. on human bone from Santa Rosa Island (Johnson et al., 2000; Rosenthal and Fitzgerald, 2012).

Early Holocene subsistence economies continued to focus on marshland habitats, but the addition of a few ground stone tools in a limited number of locations appears to signal a widening of the diet breadth, perhaps in response to the aridification of the northern Great Basin at this time (Rhode, 2000; Madsen et al., 2001; Wigand and Rhode, 2002; Grayson, 2011; see also chap. 2). A more intensive subsistence economy is also reflected by a variety of settlement-pattern shifts, with people exploiting resource patches that were never used before. Multiple rock-shelters located away from wetland areas were occupied for the first time (Beck and Jones, 1997; Graf, 2007), as were upland areas along the Sierran-Cascade Front. With regard to the latter, substantial Paleoarchaic occupations have been recognized in the Lake Tahoe/Truckee region, evinced by more than 60 Great Basin Stemmed points associated with a minimum of 15 site components (McGuire et al., 2006) and a major house structure found at Newberry Crater (Connolly, 1999). Both of these locations would have been quite marginal during the late Pleistocene and earliest Holocene, but may have become more productive later as the climate began to warm (Grayson, 2011).

Due to the dominance of tools assumed to be associated with hunting and butchering, some researchers argue that large game must also have been a primary subsistence resource during the Paleoarchaic (Amick, 1997; Elston and Zeanah, 2002; Elston et al., 2014). This position has not been borne out by the vast majority of archaeological sites with faunal remains (which are much more prevalent relative to the earlier Clovis interval), as these assemblages are dominated by small mammals, birds, fish, and insects, and have only minimal contributions from large game (Layton, 1970; Thomas, 1970; Grayson, 1988, 1993, 2011; Hockett, 2007; Madsen, 2007; Pinson, 2007; Broughton et al., 2008). Although ground stone tools remained rare before 10,200 cal b.p., they increased thereafter, particularly after 7800 cal b.p. Plant remains obtained from a number of components in eastern Nevada (e.g., Bonneville Estates, Danger Cave) include small-seeded plants like ricegrass, sand dropseed, and goosefoot (Rhode and Louderback, 2007), while sites farther north in Oregon (e.g., Newberry Crater) have yielded a wide range of fruits like chokecherry, salmon berry, and blackberry, as well as wetland plants like bulrush and a variety of other sedges (Beck and Jones, 2007).

Despite the broad-spectrum character of these adaptations, an analysis of flaked stone material types has led many researchers to conclude that Paleoarchaic settlement systems relied on a high degree of residential mobility (Kelly and Todd, 1988; Amick, 1996; Jones et al., 2003; Goebel, 2007). Similar to the work of Pinson (2011), the size of these settlement systems is determined by tracing the geographic distribution of obsidian artifacts known to originate from geochemically discrete quarry areas. These geographic distributions are often referred to as conveyance zones, with some researchers arguing that they reflect actual prehistoric foraging territories. Jones et al. (2003), for example, define three conveyance zones/foraging territories that overlap the project corridor. All three cover extremely large territories, ranging between 46,000 and 107,000 km2, and extend from the northern Nevada border down to the central and south-central portions of the state.

Smith’s (2010) more recent analysis of data from northwestern Nevada found that the Jones et al. (2003) reconstructions were much too large (see also Beck and Jones, 2011; Jones et al., 2012). His study, which included information from multiple sites located immediately adjacent to our project corridor, showed that early Holocene people occupying Fivemile Flat did not use obsidian from sources south of the Black Rock Desert, indicating that they spent most of their time in northwestern Nevada and southeastern Oregon. This suggests a conveyance zone less than half the size of what Jones et al. (2003) estimated. Smith (2010) also compared these findings to later dating assemblages (Northern Side-notched, Gatecliff, and Elko points) and found that their conveyance zones were smaller than the Paleoarchaic zones, indicating that people focused on a smaller number of high quality obsidian sources, perhaps through special logistical forays from more permanent residential sites. After 1300 cal b.p., however, the size of the of conveyance zone increased again (but not to the early Holocene level), perhaps indicating an increase in residential mobility (see also McGuire, 2002).

Even with the reduced size of the Paleoarchaic settlement systems proposed by these researchers (Smith, 2010; Beck and Jones, 2011; Jones et al., 2012), they are still more than 10 times larger than the largest systems observed in the worldwide ethnographic record (Kelly, 2011). The reliance on wetland plants, birds, fish, and small mammals also indicates that high levels of mobility would make little sense, as these resources would be difficult to deplete from a local basin, leading Madsen (2007) to hypothesize that high tool-stone diversity could have resulted from long-distance logistical forays by hunters, and/or the congregation of distinct populations during “jamborees” when people got together to share information, exchange goods, and find mates. Although few have seriously investigated this alternative perspective, it has received some mention in a few recent publications (Beck and Jones, 2012).

Despite the fact that most of the identified Paleoarchaic sites are surface phenomena, there are a handful of rock-shelters that have produced rich assemblages of perishable items dating to this period. Much of this material appears to be part of a single, widespread Catlow Twining basketry tradition composed of rectangular mats and flexible bags (Baumhoff, 1957; Adovasio, 1986). This tradition is represented in early Holocene components in southeastern Oregon (e.g., Fort Rock and Paisley caves), as well as western Nevada, where direct radiocarbon dates ranging from ca. 10,500 to 10,200 cal b.p. have been obtained from specimens excavated from Shinner Site A and Horse Cave. It is also expressed in the mats and bags associated with the Spirit Cave burial dated to ca. 12,600 cal b.p. (Cressman, 1942; Connolly et al., 1998; Fowler and Hattori, 2011).

Catlow Twining persisted for thousands of years in western Nevada until about 4800 cal b.p., when the more rigid Lovelock Wickerware and coiled baskets took over as the dominant basketry tradition in the Winnemucca, Humboldt, and Carson basins. Catlow Twining remained dominant farther north in the vicinity of the project corridor, however, where it is common in components dating between 1500 and 750 cal b.p. at Elephant Mountain and Last Supper caves. By about 1000 cal b.p., a completely different coiled basketry technology, as well as abundant seed beaters and winnowing trays, appeared in most of the western Great Basin with the arrival of Numic-speaking peoples (Bettinger and Baumhoff, 1982; Adovasio, 1986; but see Connolly, 2013), while Catlow Twining appears to have survived in northeastern California where it was traded to outlying areas by “ancestors of the Modoc or the Achomawi/Atsugewi peoples, among whom aspects of the tradition persist” (Fowler and Hattori, 2011: 215).

Finally, although human skeletal remains dating to the Paleoarchaic are quite rare, discovery of burials at Spirit Cave (ca. 12,600 cal b.p.) and the Buhl site of southern Idaho have produced some interesting findings. Morphological analyses of these skeletons, when combined with the findings from the Kennewick skeleton from the Columbia River, show a great deal of variability in the configuration of the skull, suggesting to some researchers that these early people had little affinity to modern native American populations, and that there were multiple waves of migration with some populations dying off deep in antiquity (Chatters, 2000, 2012). Subsequent DNA analysis of the Buhl skeleton and an additional ancient burial from Colorado, however, show that both individuals belonged to Haplogroup B, which persists in multiple modern native North American populations (Kaestle and Smith, 2001; Eshleman et al., 2003; Goebel et al., 2008).

Post-Mazama (7800–5700 cal b.p.)

We assign the beginning of this time period to 7800 cal b.p. but recognize that the environmental and cultural changes associated with it vary considerably across the Great Basin. Beck and Jones (2012), for example, argue that a major period of drought occurred between 8900 and 7800 cal b.p. and essentially ended the Paleoarchaic Period, including the use of Great Basin Stemmed projectile points and the adaptive focus on wetland habitats, which were either eliminated or severely compromised in many locations. They also argue that corner- and side-notched dart points originated at this time in the eastern and northern Great Basin but did not reach the western Great Basin until much later (hence the distinction between the long and short chronologies outlined above).

We favor the 7800 cal b.p. dividing line because: (1) there is no doubt that people no longer used Great Basin Stemmed points; (2) this was about the time of the Mt. Mazama volcanic eruptions that sent ash over wide areas of the northern Great Basin, including parts of the project corridor; (3) it generally corresponds to a continuance of middle Holocene drought conditions; and (4) it marks the appearance of Northern Side-notched projectile points and a wholly different adaptation than what had come before.

A number of researchers have speculated that middle Holocene climatic warming may have either reduced human populations or led them to totally abandon the central Great Basin during this period (Baumhoff and Heizer, 1965; Layton, 1985; Grayson, 1993, 2011; Beck, 1995; Schroedl, 1995; Milliken and Hildebrandt, 1997; Beck and Jones, 2012). These conditions appear to have been most severe, and their effects on human populations most extreme, between ca. 8500 and 6300 cal b.p., but it is likely that xeric conditions prevailed until ca. 4500 cal b.p. (see chap. 2; Wigand and Rhode, 2002). In this scenario, better-watered areas along the western, northern, and eastern portions of the Great Basin—perhaps including the more well-watered regions of the Humboldt River watershed—may have sustained human occupation during this time or even acted as refugia for populations who once occupied the hinterland areas of the northern and central Great Basin (Milliken and Hildebrandt, 1997; McGuire, 2007: 170–172). As supporting evidence for depopulation, Beck (1995: 229) points to a series of six rock-shelters in the central Great Basin that have occupation sequences of at least 7800 years, but apparently were abandoned from about 7400 to 5700 cal b.p. because of adverse climatic conditions that presumably affected the resource base. Instead of abandonment, Madsen (2002: 399–400) suggests that as marsh settings became increasingly stressed during the middle Holocene, populations simply shifted to more productive upland land-use strategies. Similarly, a recent compilation of Great Basin radiocarbon dates by Louderback et al. (2011) led them to conclude that most regions were probably not abandoned altogether, but population densities definitely declined. Whatever the larger pan-regional conditions were during the middle Holocene, it is reasonable to conclude that populations across the Great Basin, including the study corridor, were subject to increased levels of environmental and resource stress during this time.

As previously mentioned, the primary time-sensitive artifacts for this period are Northern Side-notched projectile points. They have been found in a variety of contexts in central and eastern Nevada (Delacorte et al., 1992; Hockett, 1995; Thomas, 2013) and western Utah (Graf, 2007), but most are found in an arclike distribution across the northern Great Basin (Delacorte and Basgall, 2012; Thomas, 2013). Important locations in the vicinity of the current study area include Tule Valley (McGuire et al., 2004), the Tosawihi quarry area, where its presence was used to help date the inception of quarry production (Elston and Raven, 1992), the Humboldt River at Battle Mountain Pasture (McGuire and King, 2011), Rye Patch Reservoir (Davis et al., 1976; Rusco and Davis, 1979; Elston and Raven, 1992; King and McGuire, 2011), the High Rock Country (Layton, 1985), and Surprise Valley (O’Connell, 1975; O’Connell and Inoway, 1994).

The northern distribution of Northern Side-notched points has led several researchers to suggest that these points are “ethnic markers” of more northerly populations who occupied the Columbia Plateau (O’Connell, 1975; Layton, 1985; Delacorte and Basgall, 2012). Along these lines, Chatters (2012: 148–151) argues that the eruption of Mt. Mazama at around 7600 cal b.p., and the resulting tephra blanket across much of southern Oregon, had the effect of pushing Plateau peoples deeper into northern Great Basin. As Layton (1985: 192–194) argues, these Plateau groups were eventually displaced by populations emanating from the south in the central Great Basin at the beginning of the Early Archaic Period. He bases this argument primarily on abrupt discontinuities of hydration values associated with Northern Side-notched and Gatecliff series projectile points at Last Supper Cave and Hanging Rock Shelter (see also Layton, 1970).

Probably the most well-known Post-Mazama manifestation in the larger study region is found in Surprise Valley and is represented by a series of highly formalized, semisubterranean house structures. O’Connell (1971, 1975) includes these features in his Menlo Phase, dating between 7400 and 5200 cal b.p. Morphologically distinctive artifacts from this period and associated with Northern Side-notched points include antler wedges, mortars with V-shaped bowls and pointed pestles, T-shaped drills, tanged blades, and flaked stone pendants. Significantly, all these artifacts appear to be of generally northern derivation, with comparable forms identified at numerous sites on the Columbia Plateau but rarely at more southern Great Basin localities. Subsistence remains at sites of this period in Surprise Valley, the Klamath Basin, and other localities show some hunting of bison and elk, which decrease in abundance or disappear altogether in the record of later occupations from more southern localities (O’Connell, 1971, 1975; James, 1983; Sampson, 1985; Grayson, 2011). Given the extreme climatic conditions of the middle Holocene, it is perhaps not surprising that sites dating to this time occur in northern latitudes of the Great Basin and are generally associated with marshes or permanent water sources; contemporaneous components manifesting much the same lakeshore adaptation have been identified at Nightfire Island on Lower Klamath Lake (Sampson, 1985) and at Fort Rock Basin in Oregon.

Chatters (2012: 149–151) characterizes the land-use strategy associated with these Post-Mazama foragers as “opportunistic sedentism” and relates it specifically to the Surprise Valley pattern. He suggests that during periods of resource abundance, these residentially mobile people, who normally had little reliance on either storage or use of temporary field camps, would build substantial semisubterranean houses in which they would reside for several months to several years. Chatters identifies a number of similar archaeological manifestations across the Columbia Plateau and northern Great Basin, and argues that opportunistic sedentism prevailed until about 6000 cal b.p.

It should be emphasized, however, that the Surprise Valley variant of the Post-Mazama Period, with its formal earthen structures and unique assemblage profile, remains somewhat of an anomaly with regard to the more arid regions to the east. Notwithstanding the occasional presence of Northern Side-notched projectile points, the archaeological record in these areas is decidedly less dramatic, often characterized by small hunting camps and stoneworking areas. Based on the co-occurrence of Northern Side-notched projectile points, sagebrush/grassland habitats, and the faunal remains of bison, elk, and other large game at a limited number of archaeological sites dating to this interval, Delacorte and Basgall (2012) hypothesize that the hunting of these animals may have been a primary focus of the economy.

Early Archaic (5700–3800 cal b.p.)

Climatic conditions began to improve a little after 6300 cal b.p. and became significantly cooler and wetter between about 4500 and 2600 cal b.p. (see chap. 2; Wigand and Rhode, 2002). The amelioration of drought conditions at the beginning the Early Archaic Period is marked by major changes in the archaeological record. Gatecliff and Humboldt series points became dominant throughout the region, largely replacing Northern Side-notched points. In Surprise Valley, the large, semisubterranean earth lodges of earlier times were replaced by generally smaller brush wickiups, built atop comparatively shallow depressions (O’Connell and Ericson, 1974; see also Creger, 1991). Mortars with V-shaped bowls and pointed pestles apparently were replaced with U-shaped grinding bowls and flat- or round-ended pestles, and perhaps greater use of the milling stone (O’Connell, 1975). Subsistence remains suggest an increasing reliance on waterfowl, lagomorphs, fish, and other small animals that could be captured en masse with the aid of nets (James, 1983).

Elston (1982: 193) notes that Early Archaic toolkits represent a break with their earlier counterparts. Projectile points and other tools from this period tend to be smaller, have less regularized forms, and were probably less specialized with regard to function. The use of unretouched flakes increased, while steep-angled scraper forms decreased in popularity. Milling slabs and hand stones for processing seeds are quite common in Early Archaic components for the first time. It is also at this time that shell beads—most notably spire-lopped Olivella variants from the Pacific coast—made their way into the Great Basin, suggesting increased levels of exchange (Bennyhoff and Hughes, 1987). In the Upper Humboldt River watershed, McGuire et al. (2004) characterize the Early Archaic Period (Pie Creek Phase) as exhibiting more generalized assemblages with somewhat more informal, core-flake-based lithic toolkits; a fully developed plant-processing technology represented by an increased number of milling stones; and dietary remains consisting mostly of easily obtainable plants, small game, and small fish.

These more generalized Early Archaic assemblages may have been produced within a settlement framework of comparatively brief occupations by residentially mobile, bandlike foragers. As observed elsewhere in the Great Basin, intersite differences in assemblages dating to this time are minor regardless of their size or proximity to resources (Delacorte, 1999: 359–389; McGuire et al., 2004). Missing are the task-specific sites that suggest logistically well-organized systems, which are recognized in the later-dating Middle Archaic components (see also Leach, 1988: 183).

Middle Archaic (3800–1300 cal b.p.)

The higher degrees of effective moisture continued into the Middle Archaic Period (see chap. 2; Wigand and Rhode, 2002). When placed within a wider context, this period is seen across much of the Great Basin and California as having been a cultural florescence or “golden age.” Along with the increasing sophistication in material culture, as represented by the Lovelock Culture in the western Great Basin, other dramatic developments included the rise of true settlement hierarchies and, notwithstanding Surprise Valley, the first substantiated occupation of large semisedentary base camps. Such large, semisedentary residential complexes have been documented along the Humboldt Lake bed (Livingston, 1986), Carson Sink (Raven and Elston, 1988; Raymond and Parks, 1990; Kelly, 2001; Madsen, 2002), the Humboldt River near Battle Mountain (McGuire and King, 2011), and the northern Great Basin in the Lake Albert–Chewacan marsh basin (Oetting, 1990; see also Jenkins et al., 2000). These findings are consistent with various excavations in the northwestern Great Basin, including the Honey Lake region and the Reno area, where large accumulations of Middle Archaic middens and artifacts have been identified at a series of ecological “sweet spots” (Elston et al., 1994; see also Riddell, 1960; McGuire, 1997). Similar manifestations have been reported in northeastern Nevada (McGuire et al., 2004) and the eastern Great Basin, where in the latter case a stable, pit-house-oriented residential pattern is recognized well before the rise of Fremont horticulture (Madsen and Simms, 1998). McGuire and Hildebrandt (2005; Hildebrandt and McGuire, 2002) argue that the Middle Archaic Period may actually represent the “trans-Holocene highpoint” of residential stability in the nonagricultural areas of the Great Basin, but others note that relatively high degrees of tool-stone diversity found in some of these assemblages actually reflect continued far-ranging residential mobility (Delacorte and Basgall, 2012).

Closer to the eastern sector of the project corridor, this settlement transition is accompanied by across-the-board increases in regional archaeological visibility, with initial occupations of James Creek (Elston and Budy, 1990) and Lower South Fork (Heizer et al., 1968; Spencer et al., 1987) shelters, and expanded use of Pie Creek Shelter (McGuire et al., 2004). Noteworthy in this regard is the Dry Susie Creek Site (Reust et al., 1994), located near Carlin, which contains five prehistoric house structures radiocarbon dated to between about 3800 and 2600 cal b.p., and which yielded an abundance of Elko points and large-mammal remains. The Middle Archaic component of the site is inferred to have functioned as a residential base camp.

Along the western edge of the Great Basin, proximal to the western portion of the project corridor, the most dramatic examples of this increased visibility are found at expansive midden complexes such as Karlo (CA-LAS-7; Riddell, 1960; Hughes and Bennyhoff, 1986), and adjacent base camps in Secret Valley (LAS-206 and -1705/H; McGuire, 1997). These sites contain a proliferation of house structures, hearths, ovens, and burials, as well as some of the richest and most diverse assemblages of artifacts and subsistence remains identified in the region. Along the southwestern shore of Honey Lake, the recently identified Tufa Village Site (26Wa2640) contains the remnants of six house structures radiocarbon dated to between 2780 and 3830 cal b.p. (Young et al., 2009). Similar settlement elaborations have also been observed in Surprise Valley (O’Connell, 1971, 1975) and Massacre Lake (Leach, 1988: 183), with the latter showing the rise of residential sites with midden for the first time.

It is from this time in the Middle and Upper Humboldt watershed that we also see proxy evidence of population increase in the form of radiocarbon dates and projectile point frequencies. At Little Boulder Basin, Cannon (2010; see also Schroedl, 1995) has compiled 124 radiocarbon dates, nearly 1000 projectile points, and several hundred obsidian hydration readings. This record indicates only sporadic occupation prior to about 3200 cal b.p., with subsequent increases in population density and occupation intensity. Large-scale surveys of Humboldt River bottomlands near Battle Mountain (McGuire and King, 2011) documented a preponderance of Elko series projectile points, followed by fewer Late Archaic variants. When this frequency trend is standardized for time and landform association, McGuire and King, conclude, the most intense period of occupation appears to have been between 2300 and 650 cal b.p., i.e., toward the latter half of the Middle Archaic and into the Late Archaic Period. In upland areas adjacent to Battle Mountain in Whirlwind Valley, a similar profile of Middle and Late Archaic projectile point frequencies was also documented (Elston and Bullock, 1994). In the James Creek Shelter area, Elston and Budy (1990) also report increasing projectile point frequencies though the Middle and Late Archaic, culminating in the highest representation in the latter. In reviewing the frequency of dated components from a large-scale sample survey in the Crescent Valley/Cortez area, Delacorte et al. (1992: 118–120) conclude that there was almost no significant occupation of this area prior to 4500 years ago. The record indicates a full-blown settlement hierarchy replete with lowland residential bases, upland root camps, collecting stations, and logistical hunting sites after this time.

This period has also been associated with the rise of logistical large-game hunting (Hildebrandt and McGuire, 2002; McGuire and Hildebrandt, 2005; see also Broughton and Bayham, 2003), although there is a growing body of data indicating that this trend was initiated in the Early Archaic Period (see chap. 12). A keystone site in this analysis is Pie Creek Shelter, located less than 10 km from the project corridor north of Elko (McGuire et al., 2004). Pie Creek Shelter contains a 3.5 m deep stratified cultural deposit spanning the past 5600 years. Four stratigraphic components were identified. The most important break is between middle Holocene deposits and those dating to the Middle Archaic. Not only does the density of large mammal remains increase sevenfold, but the ratio of artiodactyls and other large game to rabbits and small game (the “artiodactyl index”) shows a marked increase (McGuire and Hildebrandt, 2005: 700–701). Of equal importance is the fact that the increased focus on large mammals was accompanied by an expansion in both the density and frequency of economic plants, including high-cost small-seeded taxa believed to be associated with women’s subsistence activities. McGuire and Hildebrandt (2005) note a nearly identical faunal trend at Gatecliff Shelter (Thomas et al., 1986), as well as an explosion in the frequency of milling equipment in components postdating 4500 cal b.p. (see also Thomas, 2013). Similarly, Middle Archaic strata at South Fork Shelter contain higher relative frequencies of large-mammal remains than do later-dating components (Heizer et al., 1968; Spencer et al., 1987).

The results from Pie Creek and Gatecliff shelters, along with a variety of other archaeological and ethnographic data, have fueled a wider theoretical debate about the role of long-range logistical hunting by males in prehistoric and other traditional societies. This debate is rooted in human behavioral ecology and revolves around the question of whether the taking of large mammals is simply a reflection of efficient provisioning or a signal of participation in other spheres of culture only indirectly tied to subsistence, such as various prestige-garnering strategies that are thought to bestow on their participants—successful male hunters—greater individual fitness in the form of increased social attention, improved access to alliance networks, and ultimately expanded mating opportunities (McGuire and Hildebrandt, 2005: 696). In contrast to this focus on hunting by males at this time, the more intensive use of high-cost plants by women, as well as a tendency to locate base camps in settings that optimize women’s foraging activities (Zeanah, 2004), may have compensated for the problematic energetics of large-game hunting.

While aspects of this hypothesis have been contested (Broughton and Bayham, 2003; Byers and Broughton, 2004; Hockett, 2005; Codding and Jones, 2007; Jones et al., 2008; Broughton and Cannon, 2010; Jones and Codding, 2010; Winterhalder and Bettinger, 2010; Broughton et al., 2011), much of the basic subsistence and settlement framework has not (e.g., increases in the ratio of artiodactyl remains to smaller-sized taxa; expansion of female foraging production; increased logistical activity and the rise of settlement hierarchies; relative increases in sedentism). These are applicable to Middle Archaic assemblages across much of the Great Basin.

Another aspect of Middle Archaic hunting activity is the communal antelope drive trap. Hockett and Murphy (2009) summarize the evidence for these facilities from north-central Nevada, arguing that their use dates from at least 5000 years ago up through the Terminal Prehistoric Period (see also Hockett et al., 2013). The most recent dating of these features is based on their still-extant wing and corral walls fashioned from juniper wood; indeed, several such trap superstructures have been identified within the project area and were subject to study (see chap. 16). Hockett and Murphy (2009) argue that spatially restricted, high concentrations of contemporaneous projectile points represent kill zones at trap locations that have otherwise deteriorated away. They note that many of these projectile point concentrations containing Archaic dart points cluster very near traps of recent vintage (i.e., those with juniper superstructures), concluding that this particular type of hunting has a long history, and that these locations have been productive antelope migration and habitat areas over several millennia. The highly visible communal nature of this hunting practice, no doubt including the participation of much of the available male hierarchy, suggests an obvious venue for prestige and other signaling behaviors to play out, and may be related to the rise in logistical hunting described above (Jensen, 2007; see also Hockett, 2005 for a differing view of the social context of this form of communal hunting).

The Middle Archaic also saw the rise and development of an unprecedented phase of tool-stone-quarry production and biface manufacturing in the Great Basin, associated with major obsidian, basalt, and cryptocrystalline silicate (CCS) sources (Basgall and McGuire, 1988; Elston and Raven, 1992; Gilreath and Hildebrandt, 1997, 2011; Hildebrandt and McGuire, 2002; McGuire, 2002, 2007; Smith, 2010; McGuire and King, 2011). In the western Great Basin, this includes increases in biface production associated with the South Warners, Bordwell Springs, and Buffalo Hills obsidian source groups (McGuire, 2007: 173). Also observed in this same area is a decline in the diversity of obsidian sources in regional assemblages dating to the Middle Archaic (McGuire, 2002, 2007). This suggests that populations were regularly targeting a few quarry localities, as contrasted with more ad hoc tool-stone procurement conducted during the course of the seasonal subsistence round practiced by earlier populations. This same pattern has been confirmed by Smith (2010: 880–881) in his analysis of trans-Holocene obsidian source variability in the northwestern Great Basin. This form of Middle Archaic obsidian production, ultimately resulting from the manufacture of hunting-related tools and weapons, may be tied to the rise in long-range logistical hunting activity and prestige systems (Hildebrandt and McGuire, 2002; Smith, 2010: 880; see also Byrd et al., 2010).

Along similar lines, and with particular significance for tool-stone production in the Willow Creek area (northeast of Battle Mountain) of the project corridor, the Tosawihi quarry stands out. This distinctive white, opalitic tool stone dominates local and regional assemblages and has been the focus of intensive archaeological investigations conducted by Elston and Raven and their associates (1992), as well as others (Rusco, 1976, 1979). Tosawihi is the only tool-stone quarry in the Great Basin for which there is an unambiguous ethnographic reference—the Tosawihi (“White Knife”) Shoshone (Steward, 1938: 162). This would certainly indicate late-prehistoric use of the quarry and, indeed, almost all the radiocarbon dates obtained from actual quarry pits at Tosawihi range from approximately 1000 to 200 b.p. (Elston and Raven, 1992: 606). On the other hand, projectile points recovered from the quarries and surrounding area suggest quarry visitation for a much longer period. Elston (personal commun., 2004) believes that much of the potentially older quarry deposits at Tosawihi have been buried by colluvial movement, and that the radiocarbon profile simply reflects the last episodes of pit excavation, not an accurate measure of quarry production over time. Elston observes that it is entirely possible that Tosawihi quarry production peaked during the Middle Archaic in much the same manner observed at obsidian quarries elsewhere in the western Great Basin, although archaeological investigations have yet to adequately demonstrate this.

The Lovelock Culture (ca. 4000–1000 cal b.p.). As we mentioned at the outset of our discussion of the Middle Archaic, there seems to have been increasing sophistication in material culture and other cultural developments at this time. This is represented by the Lovelock Culture in the western Great Basin. The study corridor passes somewhat north of the lake country in which the Lovelock Culture was originally defined, but it seems increasingly clear that its influence may have extended across a much wider area, including the middle and upper reaches of the Humboldt River watershed. Also in this regard, the project corridor passes directly through the distributary channel system of the Quinn River into the Black Rock Desert.

The Lovelock Culture label was first coined by Loud and Harrington in 1929 based on their work at Lovelock Cave. It has been applied since by Heizer (1951), Heizer and Krieger (1956), Grosscup (1956), Bennyhoff and Heizer (1958), Heizer and Napton (1970), and Elston (1986) to many cave and cache assemblages from the lake areas of western Nevada. It is synonymous with a spectacular array of material culture—most notably perishable items—represented in many cave sites of this region. These sites often contain large numbers of baskets (e.g., various coiled forms, Lovelock Wickerware), nets, fur and bird-skin robes, mats, cordage, atlatls, darts, bone awls, ornaments, and finished projectile points, but little debitage or food waste. Also noteworthy in this regard, Bennyhoff and Hughes (1987: 161) argue that trade of marine shell beads into the Great Basin from California reached its peak in the first part of the Middle Archaic, between roughly 3700 and 3400 cal b.p.

Basketry at the start of this period in both the northern Great Basin (Oregon, northwestern Nevada) and western Great Basin (Carson and Humboldt Sinks; Pyramid Lake) appears to have been dominated by various twined forms, including the Catlow Twining mentioned earlier (Adovasio, 1986; Fowler and Hattori, 2011). At Kramer Cave in the Winnemucca Lake area, Catlow Twining accounts for 72% of the assemblage and dates to around 4700 cal b.p. It remained the dominant form in the northern Great Basin well into the Late Prehistoric Period, but was relegated to a minority type (perhaps a trade or exchange item) in the western Great Basin, replaced by various coiled forms and then by the distinctive Lovelock Wickerware at about 2600 cal b.p. (Fowler and Hattori, 2011). Interestingly, Fowler and Hattori (2011: 21) place the boundary between these northern and western basketry traditions near the Black Rock Desert, i.e., just south of the project corridor.

While early iterations of the Lovelock Culture emphasized trait lists, more recent studies have focused on its adaptive characteristics associated with riverine, lake, and other wetland habitats. At Stillwater Marsh, Raven and Elston (1988) document expansive middens replete with human burials, a high frequency of structures and features, flaked and ground stone artifacts, and a variety of marsh-taxa faunal remains (fish, waterfowl, shellfish, small mammals). These sites are in all likelihood semisedentary base camps from which long-range logistical forays emanated, and are generally consistent with our characterization of Middle Archaic lifeways. For example, osteopathologies such as knee and ankle arthritis documented in male skeletal remains from Stillwater Marsh (Hemphill and Larson, 1999; Larsen and Hutchinson, 1999) show extreme levels of mobility, probably tied to reoccurring long-distance hunting forays in pursuit of large game; in contrast, these same pathologies are less frequently expressed in female remains, suggesting more sedentary activities (McGuire and Hildebrandt, 2005: 706). Several researchers have argued that the Lovelock adaptation, crosscutting both the Middle and Late Archaic in the western Great Basin, was the result of wetland resource intensification (Raymond and Parks, 1990; Hildebrandt, 1997; McGuire and King, 2011). Madsen (2002) goes further, suggesting that this wetland adaptation (i.e., his “lowland adaptive strategy”) is instrumental in understanding prehistoric adaptations throughout the Great Basin.

Moreover, recent studies suggest that this Lovelock pattern was not restricted to lacustrine zones in the western Great Basin but was similarly manifested in the middle reaches of the Humboldt River near Battle Mountain (McGuire and King, 2011). Insofar as the Humboldt River drainage encompasses well over half the project corridor, it is reasonable to consider the implications of this adaptive pose with respect to project assemblages. Furthermore, in a region otherwise bereft of major staples, such as pinyon pine, the proximity of the Humboldt River and its tributaries may have been crucial to the occupation of this region. At Battle Mountain Pasture (also known as the Argenta Marsh) at the confluence of the Humboldt River, Rock Creek, and Reese River, there is evidence of an explosion of settlement activity on the floodplains and meander belts associated with remnant stream channels dating to between about 5600 and 700 cal b.p. (McGuire and King, 2011). Increases in the frequency of fire-affected rock features and milling equipment suggest that wetland resource intensification, similar to that identified at Stillwater Marsh, reached its apogee between 2300 and 700 cal b.p. (i.e., the latter part of the Middle Archaic and Late Archaic periods) before falling off dramatically.

As to the people representing the Lovelock Culture, Hattori (1982; see also Moratto, 1984; Fowler and Hattori, 2011: 213) has noted many similarities with Windmilller and other California Central Valley cultures, postulating a transregional Penutian ethnolinguistic affiliation. Recent mitochondrial DNA studies conducted on both prehistoric skeletal remains and modern Native American populations lend further support to this hypothesis (Kaestle and Smith, 2001). Using skeletal material from the Stillwater and Pyramid Lake regions radiocarbon dated to the Lovelock time frame, Kaestle and Smith demonstrate that the remains are most closely affiliated with modern Californian Penutian speakers. Conversely, the Stillwater and Pyramid Lake skeletal populations show little statistical haplogroup affiliation with modern Numic groups. At least in the western Great Basin, so-called pre-Numic populations, including those peoples represented by the Lovelock Culture, may have had a strong genetic, linguistic, and cultural affiliation with central California.

Late Archaic (1300–600 cal b.p.)

Most researchers would now agree that the period between 1300 and 600 cal b.p. was a time of profound cultural change along the Northern Tier of the Great Basin, possibly induced by severe drought, population increases, resource intensification, ethnic displacements, changes in technology, social conflict, or some combination of these. Some of these changes are thought to have occurred in the latter half of this period after approximately 1000 cal b.p., thus potentially splitting the Late Archaic into an earlier phase, where conditions may have been more like the preceding Middle Archaic Period, and a later phase marked by environmental and social disruptions.

To illustrate this issue, consider the Medieval Climatic Anomaly (MCA). This was an era composed of two distinct periods of severe drought dated between 1100 and 890 cal b.p. and 790 and 650 cal b.p., and separated by an interval of relatively high effective moisture (see chap. 2). Its impact appears to have been felt across the West, and it is thought to have severely disrupted settlement-subsistence systems in both California and the Great Basin (Jones et al., 1999; Graham et al., 2007). The MCA probably had its most profound effects during the latter half of the Late Archaic, although its more regional effect on cultural patterns in the northern Great Basin is not well understood. It is the case, however, that the changes in population densities, technology, and resource intensification, and perhaps even the Numic expansion into the northern Great Basin, must be considered in light of these important climatic events.

Our understanding of the Late Archaic is further complicated by the Great Basin projectile point sequence, which marks this period by a series of small corner-notched projectile points variously referred to as Rose Spring, Eastgate, or Rosegate (called Rosegate here). As a group, they signal the introduction of bow-and-arrow technology in the area but crosscut the entire time period (i.e., there is no way to break up the Late Archaic Period into smaller temporal intervals using projectile points alone). There seems to be a great deal of regional variability regarding the temporal span of these point forms, both on the early and late ends of their tenure. Although a significant amount of debate surrounds the origin of bow-and-arrow technology (e.g., Ames et al., 2010; Hildebrandt and King, 2012), the majority of data show that it appeared first on the Columbia Plateau around 2300 years ago (Webster, 1980: 65; Chatters et al., 1995: 757; Ames et al., 1998: 116) and along the Sierran/Cascade Front in the northwestern Great Basin at about 1800 cal b.p. (Hildebrandt and King, 2002), with progressively later (post-1400 cal b.p.) introductions elsewhere in the Great Basin. Rosegate points seem to have persisted a few hundred years beyond the post-600 cal b.p. close of the Late Archaic in much of the northern Great Basin as well (Milliken, 2000; Hildebrandt and King, 2002; Delacorte, 2008; Delacorte and Basgall, 2012).

Unlike the continuity represented in the projectile points, basketry types and technology seem to have completely turned over sometime after 1000 b.p. within the western Great Basin. Gone is the several-thousand-year tradition of Lovelock Wickerware, replaced by various open, simple and diagonally twined forms, including the seed beater and triangular winnowing tray, and coiled basketry characteristic of the prehistoric and historic-period Numa. Based on these findings, many have concluded that some form of ethnic or cultural replacement also occurred at this time, perhaps in the latter half of this period or slightly thereafter (Bettinger and Baumhoff, 1982; Adovasio, 1986; Adovasio and Pedler, 1994). It is important to note, however, that coiled basketry presumed to be quite late in southeastern Oregon has recently been shown to be at least 2500 years old based on direct radiocarbon dating, arguing against it being a signature trait of the Numa (Connolly, 2013).

Despite these issues with coiled basketry, the population replacement model is supported by mitochondrial DNA studies that show a statistically different haplogroup affiliation between contemporary Numic groups in the western Great Basin and prehistoric skeletal populations found at Stillwater Marsh and Pyramid Lake (Kaestle and Smith, 2001). If, indeed, Desert Series projectile points are Numic markers (Delacorte, 2008; see also Holmer, 1986; Janetski, 1993; Reed, 1994; Hildebrandt and King, 2002) and Numic populations were relatively late arrivals to northern fringe of the Great Basin (i.e., perhaps after 600 cal b.p.), the question arises whether Rose Spring points continued to be used into the Terminal Prehistoric Period in this region.

As we reviewed in the Middle Archaic discussion, most researchers argue that prehistoric populations began to ramp up at some point during the Middle Archaic and that this increase extended into the Late Archaic. This is supported by cumulative frequencies of radiocarbon dates from the western Great Basin (Louderback et al., 2011; cf. Surovell et al., 2009), as well as increases in the frequency of time-sensitive projectile points. With regard to using projectile points as proxies for population density, virtually every large excavation or survey project from the region reports either Elko or Rosegate series points as the dominant form (Thomas, 1971, 1988; Livingston, 1986; Elston and Budy, 1990; Delacorte et al., 1992; Elston and Raven, 1992: 613; Elston and Bullock, 1994; Hildebrandt and King, 2002, 2012; Delacorte, 2008; Cannon, 2010: 83; McGuire and King, 2011). Furthermore, most researchers attempt to adjust these absolute counts by time (e.g., points per century for each period) and it is almost always the case that Rosegate points predominate, for the simple fact that the Middle Archaic lasted five times longer than the Late Archaic. There are any number of serious issues that affect the use of projectile points as proxies for population density (which are further reviewed in subsequent chapters of this volume). Notwithstanding these concerns, the evidence at hand would indicate an increase in prehistoric populations along the project corridor, commencing at some point during the Middle Archaic, and that this increase extended into the Late Archaic. As to whether these population increases extended through the entire Middle and Late Archaic periods (including the MCA) is an ongoing research question.

Often tied to population growth documented at this time is the concept of resource intensification, i.e., as population density approaches the carrying capacity of the environment, people will intensify their resource procurement by adding a variety of lower-ranked foods to the diet (Elston, 1986: 145). For example, Late Archaic occupation of James Creek Shelter (Elston and Budy, 1990) is represented by a complex series of overlapping and intersecting living surfaces and associated hearths. Absolute densities of many artifact categories (including perishable items) reach their highest levels in deposits dating to this period, and there are sharp increases in the number of smaller mammals, such as rabbits, hares, and ground squirrels. Local tool stones dominate the assemblage, and exotic cherts and obsidians virtually disappear. Similarly, at South Fork Shelter (Spencer et al., 1987), deposits dating to the early part of the Late Archaic Period have yielded a wealth of organic materials and artifacts suggestive of a much more intensive occupation. Local cherts were the preferred tool stone at this time; obsidian virtually drops out of the assemblage. Similarly dated deposits at Pie Creek Shelter (McGuire et al., 2004) also yielded the highest densities of cultural materials (artifacts, debitage, bone, perishable materials)—all suggesting more intensified occupation. Subsistence practices were increasingly directed at locally available small mammals, fish, and seeds. The use of exotic tool stones dropped to its lowest level, replaced in part by a focus on the local chert emanating from a nearby quarry site.

Late Archaic intensification is also reflected in the eastern Great Basin record of semisedentary Fremont peoples, some of which came into contact with eastern Nevada hunter-gatherers during this interval. The Fremont were centered in Utah and relied on a range of subsistence practices, from full-time foraging to full-time horticulture (Madsen and Simms, 1998; Hockett and Morgenstein, 2003). Archaeological evidence indicates that the Parowan Fremont migrated westward from Utah into the region beginning about 1600 cal b.p. They disappeared by about 700 cal b.p., replaced by more mobile hunter and gatherer groups (Marwitt, 1986: 161). The reason for their decline in the study region is not clear, but the Fremont may simply have been outcompeted for natural resources by the mobile groups (Bettinger and Baumhoff, 1982).

In the northwestern Great Basin and on the Modoc Plateau, there was a significant decline in the use of large game relative to small game during the Late Archaic (Carpenter, 2002), as well as a dramatically expanded use of upland habitats at about 1000 cal b.p. (Delacorte, 2002). The latter appears to have depended heavily upon the seasonal exploitation of root crops, such as epos (yampah). Although these root crops were important resources in earlier times, their more intensive use and storage during the Late Archaic might reflect a fundamental shift in land-use patterns and economic organization, which seems to have been duplicated over most of the northwestern Great Basin. Similarly, Waechter and Andolina (2005) report on a massive camus root processing complex, with multiple oven and hearth features, dating to the latter half of the Late Archaic along the eastern front of the Sierra Nevada north of Reno. A similar pattern of root intensification is observed along the northern margins of the Great Basin in the Fort Rock area (Jenkins et al., 2000: 55): at about 1500 cal b.p., there was a concentration of residential activity in productive upland root habitats that included a proliferation of talus slope storage facilities. As both Delacorte and Jenkins point out, the consistently late appearance of this upland pattern suggests that it developed in response to a similarly widespread population/resource imbalance.

Noteworthy here is that the western portion of the pipeline corridor passes through particularly productive epos habitat in the Barrel Springs area (O’Connell et al., 2008; Trammell et al., 2008). The return rates associated with epos procurement may have been orders of magnitude higher than those for seed collecting, and epos should have been collected whenever possible (Jenkins et al., 2000: 52; see also Thoms, 1989). Outside these identified root zones to the east, Leach (1988) documents more intensified occupation and resource intensification in the Massacre Lake area beginning in the Middle Archaic and accelerating in the Late Archaic Period.

An exception to this prevailing consensus is provided by Cannon (2010) at Little Boulder Basin, north of Carlin (see also Schroedl, 1995). Summarizing excavations at more than 50 prehistoric sites conducted over several decades, Cannon and his associates (see also Ugan and Bright, 2001; Bright, 2002; Ugan et al., 2003; Broughton et al., 2011) conclude that, due to changes in foraging efficiency and technological investment, Late Archaic populations appear to have hunted large game more and processed plant foods less than either previous Middle Archaic groups or later Numic peoples.

This alternative view appears to be inconsistent not only with the local evidence for resource intensification enumerated above, but also with the florescence of agriculture at this time in the Fremont culture zones located directly to the east. Agriculture is perhaps the ultimate expression of prehistoric resource intensification, and it is hard to imagine that the conditions that gave rise to such a development would have the opposite expression in a nearby area. Evidence of farming has not been documented along the study corridor, but components containing Fremont-like pottery have been identified in the Elko area and elsewhere in northeastern Nevada (Hockett and Morgenstein, 2002). Given this larger context, it seems possible that the primary locus of habitation may have shifted to another location during the Late Archaic, leaving Little Boulder Basin as an area used primarily for hunting. Such a settlement-pattern change would create significantly different fauna profiles between adjacent areas, differences that are increasingly being documented through the Great Basin (see Hockett, 2015).

As described above for the more eastern areas of the project, resource intensification during the Late Archaic was often accompanied by the use of more locally available tool stone, such as cherts and other CCS, and a corresponding drop-off in more exotic material such as obsidian. This trend has been interpreted in a variety of Great Basin contexts as reflecting local resource intensification, settlement contraction, and overall territorial circumscription (Basgall and McGuire, 1988; Elston and Budy, 1990; Gilreath and Hildebrandt, 1997; Bettinger, 1999a; Smith, 2010). To the west where obsidian dominates local assemblages, these settlement shifts have been tracked by changes in obsidian source diversity. In the northwestern Great Basin and on the Modoc Plateau, Middle Archaic populations may have been targeting a few key quarry zones for the purpose of biface production, but by about 1000 cal b.p., this form of production had ceased, giving way to a more disparate pattern of tool-stone procurement by more locally based populations that perhaps featured increased reliance on trade and exchange, as well as scavenging of older archaeological materials. Such a pattern apparently had the effect of increasing source diversity during this time (McGuire, 2002; see also Chatters and Cleland, 1995; Smith, 2007, 2010). This inference is complicated in this region, however, by the geographically extensive profusion of obsidian pebbles and cobbles, often originating from disparate source locations, found in secondary alluvial contexts (Young, 2002a; also see chap. 2).

While changes in tool-stone source profiles have been useful for reconstructing mobility patterns, the evidence is less conclusive with regard to major changes in flaked stone technology. Profiles of obsidian quarry use at the Coso source in southeastern California have identified an early and middle Holocene pattern of both core and biface production; during the Middle Archaic, this was followed by a much more intense period of activity directed almost exclusively at the production of standardized bifaces (Gilreath and Hildebrandt, 1997, 2011). As we have noted, a similar shift may have occurred at the Tosawihi Quarry. Though much has been made of the relative advantages of biface production with regard to mobile land-use patterns (Kelly, 1988), there is no clear evidence for a major break in overall flaked stone technology between the Middle and Late Archaic periods at Pie Creek Shelter or Little Boulder Basin (Seddon et al., 2010), when mobility patterns are thought to have changed significantly. An apparent reliance on biface production (as opposed to core-flake production) appears to crosscut these periods. The issue, however, is far from resolved and remains a central focus of this investigation.

Terminal Prehistoric
(600 cal b.p. to Contact)

Terminal Prehistoric occupation of this region of the western Great Basin is generally thought to be associated with the arrival of Numic-speaking peoples who entered the area from a homeland near the desert margins of the southern Sierra Nevada (Lamb, 1958; Bettinger and Baumhoff, 1982; Madsen and Rhode, 1994; Kaestle and Smith, 2001). This would include the Western Shoshone in the eastern portion of the project corridor, and the Northern Paiute in the western zone. Signature artifacts of this period include Desert Series projectile points (i.e., Desert Side-notched and Cottonwood) and brownware pottery among the Western Shoshone. As previously mentioned, several researchers (e.g., Delacorte, 1995; Bettinger and Eerkens, 1999; see also Holmer, 1986; Janetski, 1993; Reed, 1994) have posited that the Desert Side-notched variant represents an actual ethnic marker of the Numa in much the same manner as the unique basketry complex (i.e., Adovasio, 1986, Stage 5) identified in regional shelters and caves has been tied to the ancestors of the Northern Paiute and Western Shoshone. As we have noted, however, the arrival of the Numa along this Northern Tier of the Great Basin, perhaps postdating 600 cal b.p., raises important cultural and historical issues associated with the Terminal Prehistoric Period.

The Terminal Prehistoric represents a distinct break from preceding late Holocene land use. In a pattern mostly substantiated by subsequent research, Elston (1982: 198) recognized that residential group size in the western Great Basin decreased during this time, and settlement systems became more dispersed. This may explain why many Terminal Prehistoric settlements throughout this region have almost a “stand alone” domestic quality about them, as might be expected by a series of very dispersed and short-term occupations by small family units. Many multicomponent village localities, such as those described for Surprise Valley (O’Connell, 1975; O’Connell and Inoway, 1994), the Humboldt Lake bed (Livingston, 1986), and Secret Valley (Riddell, 1960; McGuire, 1997), which contain large numbers of house structures apparently constructed at various intervals throughout the late Holocene, show an abrupt reduction in Terminal Prehistoric residential activity (McGuire, 2002: 29–39). Work, domestic, and residential activities appear to have been much less segregated during this time period, often reduced to a small apron surrounding a single house structure and/or hearth. Of course, this characterization is not unlike the ethnographic descriptions of Numic family bands provided by Steward (1938) and others.

A good example of this settlement pose is found at Tule Valley Shelter, located only several kilometers from the project corridor north of Elko (Delacorte, 2004: 137–162). This shelter contains a small, single-component Numic occupation. The small but eclectic assemblage contains milling and other processing tools, flaked stone implements (but little debitage), pottery, and bone beads, and is typical of other small-scale Numic sites documented elsewhere in the Great Basin. The assemblage speaks to a simple family-band level of organization that includes the activities of both men and women. These sorts of sites often show no sign of previous occupation, and suggest increasing land-use intensity directed at resource patches that were previously ignored (Delacorte, 2004: 161).

Similarly, there is some evidence that certain productive habitats targeted by Middle and Late Archaic groups were used much less during the Terminal Prehistoric Period. For example, large-scale surveys of Humboldt River bottomlands near Battle Mountain (McGuire and King, 2011) document an abrupt decline of Desert-series projectile points relative to Middle and Late Archaic markers. In addition, site densities on post-700 cal b.p. floodplain and meander-belt landforms collapse when compared to those observed on older landforms (McGuire and King, 2011: 172–182). These results are in keeping with a more dispersed land-use system that targeted a variety of new resources and habitats, but are also consistent with a small, family-band settlement structure that may not have left as visible an archaeological footprint.

If Tule Valley Shelter is a small-scale example of Numic occupation of a previously ignored habitat, Little Boulder Basin may be another example on a much larger scale. In an altogether different pattern from that observed on the Humboldt River at Battle Mountain Pasture, the Terminal Prehistoric record at Little Boulder Basin is definitively more robust. Of the 124 radiocarbon dates from this locality, the majority date to the Terminal Prehistoric. The cumulative Paradise Valley obsidian hydration profile for the basin abruptly spikes in the 1.0–2.0 micron range, also indicating very late-dating occupation. Similarly, there is a large relative frequency of Desert Series projectile points, which provides additional proxy evidence of an intense Terminal Prehistoric occupation of this area.

Most of the radiocarbon dates at Little Boulder Basin were obtained from the several hundred thermal features identified (described as fire hearths), some of which contain rock. Archaeobotanical remains found in these features are dominated by grass seeds (Stipa arida, Poa spp.) and goosefoot (Chenopodium). This emphasis on plant resources is also indicated in higher frequencies of ground stone tools from components dating to this time. High ratios of milling equipment to flaked stone tools from components dating to the Terminal Prehistoric Period also characterize a number of locations in the northwestern Great Basin, including Secret Valley (McGuire, 1997), the Black Rock Desert (Seck, 1980), the Buffalo Hills region (Kolvet, 1995), and Duck Lake (Creger, 1991). In many respects, the intensification of these seed-resource tracts is not unlike that described for epos and other root crops in the western zone of the project corridor, although the latter appears to have occurred earlier in time (see chap. 13).

Along with root and seed intensification, there are a variety of places where archaeofaunal data indicate an increasing reliance on small-game resources and less focus on the taking of artiodactyls during the Terminal Prehistoric Period (Spencer et al., 1987; McGuire et al., 2004; McGuire and Hildebrandt, 2005). This profile is in keeping with the broader pattern of resource intensification described above. It is important to emphasize, however, that there are several exceptions to this generalized trend. Within the northwestern Great Basin and Cascade Range, for example, high frequencies of artiodactyl remains were documented in Terminal Prehistoric components (Carpenter, 2002). This pattern has been tied to high levels of territorial circumscription and social conflict creating buffer zones where artiodactyls were less subject to predation. An emphasis on large-game hunting during the Terminal Prehistoric is also documented by the numerous antelope traps identified in the northeastern Great Basin (Hockett, 2005; Hockett and Murphy, 2009; Hockett et al., 2013), including some investigated during the current project (see chap. 16).

Changes in the distribution of Desert-series projectile points may also reflect alterations in hunting organization. In the Crescent Valley/Cortez area, it is noteworthy that Desert-series points, in contrast to earlier variants, generally do not occur as isolated finds (Delacorte et al., 1992). This suggests that individual/small-group, logistically based activities may have been comparatively less important than more communal activities. At the Tosawihi Quarry, Desert Side-notched points, although well represented, tend not be dispersed across the landscape, but are found primarily in residential feature contexts (Elston and Raven, 1992: 613).

Flaked stone assemblages dating to this time are generally characterized as the result of opportunistic exploitation of whatever tool stone was locally available, including in some instances the scavenging of older obsidian debris from earlier occupations (Delacorte, 2004: 149–150). Given the potentially wide territorial swath covered in the seasonal round of these groups, these behaviors can result in increased tool-stone source diversity, although the relationship of this diversity to mobility and other land-use constructs may not always be straightforward. Flaked stone densities at components dating to this time are also often sparse, as tool-stone needs were limited to the needs of the family band. Often such components are dominated by pressure flake debris, as knapping activities centered on tool maintenance and refurbishing (Basgall and McGuire, 1988; Eerkens et al., 2004). Biface manufacturing and early-stage reduction are often represented but, again, at a level to supply only the needs of the immediate family group. As a result, Terminal Prehistoric components can be difficult to recognize in multicomponent site contexts where earlier and more prolific tool-stone reduction can mask the more ephemeral character of these later occupations (Gilreath and Hildebrandt, 1997, 2011).

Ethnographic Background

Pat Barker

In the old days they used to dig food all summer—until it was gone. They gathered seeds and roots and buried them in the ground. In winter they stayed until the buried food was gone and then moved on to the next place. They hunted every day, all year. In those days there were many sage hen, ducks, geese, swans, jackrabbits, cottontails, deer and antelope.

–Kelly, 1932: 76

The project corridor passes through the aboriginal homelands of the Northern Paiute and Western Shoshone (fig. 14). While the following discussion provides some general information on the traditional lifeways of these people, it is not a dense ethnographic description. Its primary purpose is to analyze ethnographic information from an archaeological perspective and use the results to help interpret the archaeological record discovered during this project. To do this, we will focus on information found in the ethnographic record about settlement and subsistence systems and discuss general attributes of aboriginal lifeways mainly as they relate to these systems. Then, we discuss each of the four regions defined for the project in light of this record.

Fig. 14. Approximate locations of Northern Paiute and Western Shoshone bands.

Using the ethnographic record to illuminate the archaeological record can be problematic (e.g., Wobst, 1977). It is important to note that professional ethnographic fieldwork in northern Nevada did not include participant observation while the ethnographer lived among people practicing aboriginal lifeways. Instead, professional ethnographers had to consult with people who were living on reservations or in communities attached to Euro-American settlements. None of the consultants were still living aboriginal lifeways in traditional territories. While full participant observation was not possible, some aspects of traditional lifeways could be observed, discussed, and recorded (e.g., Gleason, 2001). Other traditional activities, however, did not continue forward and could only be accessed as memories or as part of an oral tradition.

Many subsistence activities did persist and were used to supplement the diet even after Native people entered the western cash economy (Crum, 1994); some activities like plant gathering (Couture, 1978; Couture et al., 1986; Gleason, 2001) and communal jackrabbit drives (Peden, 1995) still survive today. An outstanding example of contemporary plant collecting along the study corridor is found at Barrel Springs, where epos is an important economic resource (Deur, 2010).

Sources

Although explorers and travelers have been writing descriptions of native lifeways in parts of the Great Basin since 1776, ethnographic observations by trained anthropologists began with A.L. Kroeber, who gathered information between 1902 and 1917 in California and Nevada (D. Fowler, 1986: 22–27). As we have noted, traditional lifeways in traditional territories had collapsed by about 1870, and participant-observation anthropology was no longer possible (Fowler and Fowler, 1971; D. Fowler, 1986: 29).

This problem notwithstanding, professional anthropological research continued with fieldwork by C. Hart Merriam between 1902 and 1936, S.A. Barrett in 1915, and Robert Lowie between 1906 and 1926. The most active period of anthropological fieldwork began in 1927 and ended with the start of World War II in 1940. In this period, Julian Steward initiated fieldwork among the Owens Valley Paiute, Western Shoshone, and Northern Paiute; he also did culture-element distribution surveys for Kroeber in 1935 and 1936. Omar C. Stewart conducted similar surveys between 1937 and 1939. They were joined by Isabel Kelly, working among the Surprise Valley Paiute from 1929 to 1934; Demitri Shimkin, working among the Eastern Shoshone between 1937 and 1939; and Willard Z. Park, working among the Northern Paiute between 1933 and 1940. During the War, Sven Liljeblad began his ethnographic and linguistic studies. Francis Riddell worked with the Honey Lake Paiute in 1950, and Margaret Wheat began working with Northern Paiute in 1959. Catherine S. Fowler began extensive comparative studies in 1964.

For this project, the best primary ethnographic sources include Francis Riddell (1978) on the Honey Lake Paiute; Isabel T. Kelly (1932) on the Surprise Valley Paiute; Omar C. Stewart (1941) on the Northern Paiute; Julian Steward (1937, 1938, 1941, 1955) on the Western Shoshone; and Catherine Fowler (1992) on the Northern Paiute at Stillwater Marsh. Major secondary sources include several articles in volume 11 (Great Basin) of the Handbook of North American Indians (Fowler and Liljeblad, 1986; Thomas et al., 1986); unpublished reports by Rucks (2002) on the Northern Paiute and Bengston (2003) on the Northern Paiute and Western Shoshone; and a book by Crum (1994) on the Western Shoshone.

Ethnohistoric Interactions (1750–1900)

British and American fur companies began trapping in northern Nevada and along the Humboldt River drainage in the mid-1820s (Cline, 1963). However, direct contact does not mark the beginning of ethnohistoric interactions. If anything, it is the end stage of a long process of indirect Euro-American encroachment on traditional lifeways. The process began when late prehistoric adaptations in northern Nevada started changing to accommodate the influence of Euro-Americans (Malouf and Findlay, 1986; Shimkin, 1986). As early as the 18th century, indigenous groups felt the effects of indirect trade, slave raiding, horses, and epidemic diseases. For example, in the late 18th century, the Bannock, formerly a traditionally organized Northern Paiute group, traded for horses, migrated from Oregon to the Snake River Plain and into southern Montana, and adopted mounted buffalo hunting and other Plains-style lifeways (Murphy and Murphy, 1986: 284). These kinds of changes mean that the ethnohistoric process needs to be stretched back in time to the point when indirect impacts began, and forward to when native lifeways collapsed and Native Americans moved to Euro-American settlements or reservations. In northern Nevada, this is the period from about 1750 to 1900.

While there may have been sporadic, undocumented incursions into northern Nevada prior to 1825, continuous, direct contact between Native Americans and Euro-Americans began in 1826 when fur trappers working on the Snake River moved south to exploit the Humboldt drainage (Cline, 1963). Led by Peter Skene Ogden of the Hudson’s Bay Company (1826–1829) and Jedediah Strong Smith of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company (1827), many fur trappers explored northern Nevada and initiated direct contact with the Western Shoshone and Northern Paiute (hereafter referred to collectively as the Numa).

Between 1850 and 1880, land acquisitions, ecological changes, and cultural disruptions caused by non-Indian immigration into northern Nevada curtailed traditional lifeways among the Numa to the extent that they were becoming dependent on non-Indian communities, especially along the Humboldt River and other wetlands (Fowler and Liljeblad, 1986; Malouf and Findlay, 1986; Thomas et al., 1986). Early impacts were less severe farther from these areas, and some Western Shoshone groups were among the last to come into continuous contact (Scoggan, 2009). As Euro-Americans moved into an area, mining and domestic woodcutting could severely impact woodlands, and ranchers excluded indigenous people from traditional water sources by converting native grass fields to hay (Thomas et al., 1986). As a result, Western Shoshone and Northern Paiute men sought work as ranch hands, miners, or woodcutters, and women as domestics, cooks, and laundresses (Riddell, 1978; Scoggan, 2009).

Euro-Americans began negotiating treaties with Western Shoshone leaders for rights-of-way across central Nevada as early as 1859, when Jacob Forney, Superintendent of Indian Affairs for the Utah Territory, negotiated an agreement with the White Knife Shoshone that was never ratified. In 1862, James Nye, territorial governor for Nevada, negotiated another (unratified) treaty with Western Shoshone living around Austin. Finally, the U.S. government negotiated the Treaty of Ruby Valley of 1863 that stands as the only ratified treaty with any Western Shoshone group. In this treaty, the band led by Te Moak (also spelled Temoke and Temoak) granted the government a right-of-way through their ancestral lands in exchange for peace, friendship, and annuities, but did not include any land cessions (Crum, 1994). It did, however, open the route for immigrant passage to California and became a mechanism for establishing reservations and colonies.

The first exclusive Western Shoshone Reservation, Carlin Farms, was established in 1875 and closed in 1879 (Clemmer and Stewart, 1986). Duck Valley, the first permanent reservation, was established in 1877 to accommodate both Western Shoshone and Northern Paiute. The same groups were accommodated at Fort McDermitt (1892), Fallon (1906 and 1917), and Reno-Sparks (1917). The Bishop (1913), Fort Independence (1915), Big Pine (1922), and Lone Pine (1939) colonies were reserved for Western Shoshone and Owens Valley Paiute. In 1917, the Battle Mountain Colony was exclusively reserved for Western Shoshone, as were Elko (1918, reorganized in 1938), Ely (1931), Yomba (1937), Odgers Ranch–South Fork (1937 and 1941), Ruby Valley (1940), Duckwater (1940–1944), and finally Wells (1977).

The first reservations for the Northern Paiute were identified and occupied in 1859 at Walker Lake and Pyramid Lake, although they were not formally established by Congress until 1874 (Clemmer and Stewart, 1986). The Malheur Reservation was established in 1873. It was followed by Burns (1889), Fallon (1902), Lovelock (1910), Benton (1919), Yerington and Reno-Sparks (1917), Winnemucca (1928), and XL Ranch (1938). In the vicinity of the corridor, Fort Bidwell was established in 1887 and expanded in 1917, while Summit Lake and Susanville were established in 1913 and 1923, respectively. The last Northern Paiute reservation was established at Bridgeport in 1972 (Clemmer and Stewart, 1986). Between 1887 and 1930, Northern Paiute had their reservation lands allotted to individuals and families, with at least 50% (335,000 acres) of reservation lands passing to non-Indians (Clemmer and Stewart, 1986).

Linguistics

The history of Numic languages in the Great Basin is somewhat controversial, but most archaeologists and linguists think that Northern Paiute and Western Shoshone speakers spread from eastern California north and east across the Great Basin less than 2000 years ago (Miller, 1966; Goss, 1968; Miller et al., 1971; Fowler, 1972; Bettinger and Baumhoff, 1982; Rhode and Madsen, 1994; Golla, 2011; but see Goss, 1977; Aikens and Witherspoon, 1986; Aikens, 1994; Grayson, 2011). Although the exact timing of their arrival in northern Nevada is yet to be established, it is clear that by 1830 they were well established and had been in the area for a significant amount of time. Due to many similarities in their material culture, John Wesley Powell used the term “Numa” to refer to Numic speakers in the arid west (Fowler and Fowler, 1971). It will also be used here to refer to the Northern Paiute and Western Shoshone, collectively.

Linguistic territory: Given the fluid social and territorial systems characteristic of Numa ethnographic lifeways, identifying kinship connections, group membership, ethnohistoric sites, and tribal territoriality at any point in time (synchronic view) represents a single snapshot of sociopolitical relationships that actually flow through time (diachronic view). Synchronic views of dynamic systems necessarily give a false impression of territorial stability among groups and language communities. One such point in time was when Euro-Americans entered the area and early ethnographers recorded the nature and distribution of historic-era Numic groups (Fowler and Fowler, 1971). This is also the point at which traditional lifeways collapsed and modern tribal governments were created through treaties, agreements, executive orders, or congressional action (Crum, 1994). Modern tribal governments were as much a product of national political forces as of Numic group dynamics (Clemmer and Stewart, 1986), and modern identity and population patterns are only one source of information on ethnohistoric geography and adaptations.

At historic contact, people speaking Northern Paiute occupied a large region in Oregon, Idaho, and Nevada (Stewart, 1939; Fowler and Liljeblad, 1986; Fowler, 1992; Rucks, 2002). It stretched from the John Day River, Oregon in the north; east to the edge of the Snake River Plain, Idaho; south to the Mono Lake Basin, California; and west to the California/Nevada border north of Honey Lake (Fowler, 1992). The boundaries of this area blended onto the boundaries of adjacent groups, including the Western Shoshone to the east, the Owens Valley Paiute to the south, the Bannock and Northern Shoshone to the north, the Klamath to the northwest, and the Washoe to the west (Fowler, 1992; Rucks, 2002). In the project area, Northern Paiute occupied the High Rock Country and Upper Lahontan Basin.

People speaking Western Shoshone occupied a territory (Steward, 1937) extending from Death Valley in the southwest through central Nevada and into northeastern Wyoming (Stewart, 1966). To the east, they blended into areas occupied by the Gosiute, and to the north, their territorial boundary was along the divide between the Snake River and Humboldt River drainages (Thomas et al., 1986).

Although people intermingled along these linguistic boundaries, Steward (1938) and Fowler and Liljeblad (1986) suggest that the territorial boundary between the Northern Paiute and the Western Shoshone ran along the crest of the Desatoya Mountains. Steward (1938) also noted that in the Humboldt River drainage, the boundary runs roughly north to south near Iron Point between Battle Mountain (Western Shoshone) and Winnemucca (Northern Paiute). In the project area, Western Shoshone occupied the Upper Humboldt Plains and Thousand Springs Valley. The eastern edge of the Upper Lahontan Basin may have been a joint-use area.

Foragers and Collectors

On a global scale, Binford (1980) defined a forager-collector model to explain residential choices among hunter-gathers. At one end of the spectrum, people living as foragers in relatively homogenous and predictable environments use residential mobility (moving the entire group from camp to camp) to move consumers to resources (Binford, 1980: 5–10). At the other end, people living as collectors, in relatively varied and unpredictable environments, use logistical mobility (task groups move out and back from a residential camp) to bring resources to consumers (Binford, 1980: 10–13). Subsequently, Bettinger and Baumhoff, (1982: 485–488) adapted Binford’s model to the Great Basin by developing a refined processor-traveler model as an explanation for the late prehistoric spread of Northern Paiute and Western Shoshone people from a presumed homeland in the southwestern Great Basin.

Recently, Great Basin archaeologists have tried to explain residential movement by looking at the gendered division of labor and have independently modeled women’s and men’s activities as a way to understand past residential patterns (Elston and Zeanah, 2002; Zeanah, 2002, 2004). In these models, women act as if they are processors (foragers) and men as if they are travelers (collectors). That is, women acquire food and materials to meet daily needs with a gathering strategy aimed at a wide diet breadth, emphasizing resources with low return rates, high handling costs, and low search costs. Men, on the other hand, provide large game by practicing a strategy aimed at a narrow diet breadth, with high return rates, high search costs, and low handling costs (Zeanah, 2004: 1–4). This division of labor is not absolute. Women and men work together to collect plants or participate in multifamily communal game drives; when in camp, men help women gather and process plant foods, and women opportunistically take fish and small game while gathering plants (Zeanah, 2004: 1–4).

Sharing and the Gendered Division of Labor

As noted by Steward (1941: 254), “the principle of property rights was simple: things to which human effort had been applied were owned by the person or persons who had worked on them.”

Egalitarian hunting and gathering societies tend to have explicit reciprocity rules governing the distribution of food (Kelly, 1995: 161–168; Hawkes, 2006: 269–274). Under these rules, people expect hunters to share the results of their targeted hunting trips with everyone in a camp (Woodburn, 1982: 440–442). In return, hunters gain prestige for helping the group (Woodburn, 1982; Kelly, 1995: 298–302). In contrast, gathered resources, including incidental animals taken while gathering, are not automatically shared with the larger group, but may be shared as needed outside of the immediate family (Woodburn, 1982: 440–442). Unlike food, tools and raw materials do not have to be shared (Woodburn, 1982: 440–442). Group members actively enforce sharing rules through social ostracism or physical violence (Woodburn, 1982: 442–443; Hawkes, 2006: 273–374). In unpredictable environments, like northern Nevada, sharing is usually explained as a mechanism for reducing long-term risk by giving when you have resources and receiving when you are in need (Hawkes, 1996: 291–298). Since hunting is much more uncertain than gathering, this explanation also accounts for differences in hunting and gathering sharing rules.

The gendered division of labor among the Surprise Valley Paiute (Kelly, 1932: 79) was typical of the rest of northern and central Nevada. Tasks that were violent, sporadic, or distant tended to be defined as men’s work, while the definition of women’s work included tasks that were close to the base camp, required daily effort, and were nonviolent (Steward, 1941: 253). In any given situation, however, either gender would engage in cross-gender activities. Men hunted, but women assisted with communal drives and waterfowl hunts. In their daily gathering activities, women and girls set traps for small game. Both men and women worked hides and made rabbit skin blankets. In net making, women made cordage while men knotted the net. All hunting equipment (including sewn quivers) was made by men. Women usually made baskets, sewed, and made handicrafts. Women gathered roots, berries, and insects with sporadic male assistance. Women prepared food, hauled fired wood and water, and did general domestic chores, but when in camp, men helped with these tasks. Steward (1941: 253) reported a similar division among the Western Shoshone, except that people tended to make (and own) the tools they needed for daily tasks. He also reported that there might have been specialized bow makers and ceramicists. Kelly (1932: 79) also noted that Surprise Valley sharing rules reflected this division of labor. The results of a women’s daily gathering belonged to her family and did not have to be shared with the camp. In contrast, any game that hunters brought back was shared with everyone in camp.

Gender and Residential Mobility

When women’s resource needs controlled camp location, men hunted as well as they could in less than optimal resource patches close to home, or on logistical forays to better hunting grounds (Thomas, 1981b: 40–44). This strategic hunting choice would depend in part on target-animal seasonal behavior and on food storage needs. For example, cottontail rabbits are not amenable to drive hunting because, unlike jackrabbits, they hide rather than run when startled. Individual or small-group logistical hunting would prevail when game was dispersed and settlement was governed by women’s acquisition needs. In this case, hunters, using specialized gear and staging areas, hunted artiodactyls as individuals or in very small groups and carried their finds back to larger settlements. Dispersed small hunting groups also covered a larger area with higher probability of encountering game and procuring sufficient meat to share beyond the daily needs.

When game was aggregated, however, men’s resource needs governed camp location and communal activities such as multifamily or group drives. Deer and antelope aggregate in the spring and fall as they move from summer to winter range, while bighorn sheep tend to aggregate in the summer and fall. When conditions were right, or when stockpiles were needed, people would come together to gather large amounts of food (communal jackrabbit drives, communal antelope drives) to be stored for winter use or consumed in large social gatherings.

Core and Periphery

Traditional views of Great Basin hunter-gatherers usually emphasize an adaptation focused on pinyon, which is reasonable because its distribution is coincident with the core Numa territory in the central Great Basin (fig. 15). The Numa core is bounded on the north by the Humboldt River drainage, on the west by the east slope of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, on the south by the boundary between the Great Basin and the Mojave Desert, and on the east by the mountains forming the western edge of the Bonneville Basin. Under this definition, all of the project area is in the Numa periphery and none is in the core territory.

Fig. 15. Distribution of singleleaf pinyon (Pinus monophylla).

Numa settlement and subsistence activities differed depending on the availability of water and pinyon (Thomas, 1981: 19–52; C. Fowler, 1986: 64–65). In the Nevada core area, pinyon occurs between 5000 and 8000 ft in elevation in areas where there is between 12 and 18 inches of annual precipitation. Temperature confines this elevation-bounded habitat and causes pinyon stands to narrow and eventually disappear in northern Nevada as inversion-caused thermal belts disappear. It is also apparent that pinyon, if it arrived at all, became available at different times in different places in the past (Wigand and Nowak, 1992; Nowak et al., 1994; Wigand and Rhode, 2002). In fact, most of the central Great Basin did not have pinyon prior to 7000 years ago (Charlet, 1996; Grayson, 2011: 253–258).

Core area – life with pinyon: Numa lived by foraging in relatively small groups from the spring through the fall; their movements were keyed largely to the availability of plant foods (Steward, 1938, 1941; Stewart, 1941; Fowler and Liljeblad, 1986; Thomas et al., 1986). In the fall, people gathered for festivals, communal hunting, or communal plant processing to prepare for winter living. In winter, the Numa were more sedentary. Family houses were loosely grouped into winter villages of up to 50 people, and villages were typically established in relatively warmer places, not far from caches of nuts, seeds, dried fish, meat, or other foods (Fowler and Liljeblad, 1986; Thomas et al., 1986). The typical winter house was a conical hut housing an extended family. Northern Paiute did not use the semisubterranean sweathouse that was nearly universal among the Western Shoshone (Fowler and Liljeblad, 1986; Thomas et al., 1986).

In the core area, plants dominated Numa subsistence, with animals accounting for no more than 20% of caloric intake (Steward, 1938, 1941; Stewart, 1941; Fowler and Liljeblad, 1986; Thomas et al., 1986; Fowler, 1992). The core annual subsistence round focused on pinyon nuts, seeds, geophytes, and grasses, with several species of animals regularly hunted in conjunction with movement to gather plants. Pinyon nuts, where available, were a staple gathered by family groups on extended logistical forays. The pinyon harvest was predictable but also somewhat unreliable. A given grove might fail one year out of three, so people needed access to at least three dispersed groves (Grayson, 2011: 253–258). Hunted animals included bighorn sheep, antelope, deer, rabbits, upland birds, and migratory waterfowl. People used a number of different game enclosures, including traps and corrals, in communal antelope and jackrabbit hunting (Fowler and Liljeblad, 1986; Thomas et al., 1986). Fish could be an important food in well-watered lacustrine and riparian areas (Fowler and Liljeblad, 1986; Fowler, 1992).

Periphery – life without pinyon: In contrast to the Numa core area, subsistence efforts north of the pinyon line were more continuous and less seasonal (Kelly, 1932: 75–103; Steward, 1941: 218–232; Riddell, 1978: 48–56; C. Fowler, 1992: 43–88). Food accumulation and storage sufficient to avoid late winter shortages was more problematic, and starvation was more likely than in the core territory. As a result, there was a greater emphasis placed on geophyte gathering and animal procurement, especially of antelope. The unique nature of northern periphery adaptations is best summarized along three dimensions: seasonal round, geophyte use, and hunting.

Seasonal round: The Northern Paiute people living in Surprise Valley are a good example of the northern, nonpinyon adaptation. Beginning in spring, when snow was still on the ground, people fished along creeks and streams on the valley bottom. But as the snow melted, winter settlements were abandoned and people moved into the eastern hills for early shoot and root gathering, and supplemented their diet with food from hill-area caches. All spring and well into summer people stayed in relatively fixed camps where both the valley bottom and hill country could be exploited for food. They did not make logistical trips to known resource patches but instead foraged opportunistically in an expanding radius from camp to gather in areas where food supplies were most promising. Plants and small game were gathered for daily consumption, and dense root patches were exploited for winter food drying and storage. Depending on local conditions, gathering could be wide-ranging, from getting camas in swamps to gathering epos and other roots in higher and drier country. Women’s access to plant resources, especially roots, determined camp locations, and men either hunted from the gathering base camp, or more often, went on short logistical large-game hunting trips (Kelly, 1932: 75–103).

As fall approached, plant gathering declined and subsistence efforts turned to hunting for winter storage. From late summer into fall, people concentrated for communal jackrabbit drives and group waterfowl hunting. They then returned to more or less permanent settlements in Surprise Valley to subsist on seeds, dried roots, and dried meat from caches (Kelly, 1932: 75–103). Most groups had at least two winter settlements and moved to a new camp when food was exhausted. People also traveled in winter among several camp areas to cooperate in communal antelope and jackrabbit drives.

Geophytes: While geophytes were a secondary, seasonal resource in the core Numa area (Steward, 1941: 218–232), they were more of a dietary staple in northern Nevada (Kelly, 1932: 75–103; Riddell, 1978: 48–56; Trammell et al., 2008; Scholze, 2011: 35–37). Important root crops occur in valley bottom wetland habitats, on sandy or rocky sagebrush-covered slopes, and in upland meadows and flats. They become available in spring when they sprout and their stems and flowers become visible, and are harvested with simple tools, mainly digging sticks. Lowland plants were harvested first in the early spring, and were especially valuable to stave off starvation as winter stores were exhausted. As conditions ameliorated through spring and into summer, different geophytes became available at higher elevations away from the valley bottoms. The most important of these were dry land taxa like epos, biscuit-root, and bitterroot. People gathered dry land taxa for daily consumption and, more importantly, dried them for winter storage.

Hunting: Winter hunting was extremely important on the northern periphery (Kelly, 1932: 75–103; Riddell, 1978: 48–56). In addition to daily individual and small group hunts for deer, rabbits, and other small game, hunters organized large communal jackrabbit drives using nets and very large communal antelope drives using corrals and wing traps. Riddell’s (1978: 55–56) consultants said “all” families gathered for drives, and meat was shared equally among participating families. These communal hunts provided much needed winter food, but equally important, they were also social gatherings for finding mates, developing trade relationships, and nurturing alliances to gain access to alternative resource areas (Kelly, 1932: 75–103). While a boss managed the drive itself, the social gathering was managed by a group of household heads.

Antelope drives were usually held in mid or late winter, as the wet ground tended to tire the animals more quickly. When antelope congregated, forming herds of up to 400 animals in the Surprise Valley area, a recognized antelope boss (charmer) located a large herd and organized a communal hunt in which the herd was driven into a large sagebrush corral and killed (Kelly, 1932: 75–103). Up to 20 camps, and as many as 100 men, would move to the trapping area and construct the trap. The boss led a round dance and sang on the night before the hunt, during which he “charmed” the herd to bring it to the trap. In the corral, runners kept the herd moving until it was exhausted and as many animals as possible were killed. The meat and hides were shared equally among all hunters, including the boss. If the division was not equal, it was believed that a future hunt organized by the boss would fail. Most families dried their meat for later use. Towards the end of the hunt, the corral was usually burned to clear the way for butchering.

From late September through January, people in Surprise Valley (Kelly, 1932: 75–103) organized or participated in communal jackrabbit hunts, using individuals who owned large nets (3 × 100 ft or more). One or more net owners (bosses) would organize a hunt involving four or five camps. They strung their nets in a straight line across a valley, and men and women would drive jackrabbits to the nets and club them. As an area was exhausted, the bosses shifted their nets to continue the hunt. The boss divided the catch among all families and, as with the antelope drives, people mostly dried the meat for later use.

Trade and External Relationships

Perishables made up the majority of the items traded in ethnohistoric times (Hughes and Bennyhoff, 1986). Trade among local groups focused on buckskins, moccasins, rabbit-skin blankets, woven goods, stone and shell beads, fish, pinyon nuts, and obsidian, while external trade with western peoples yielded acorns, salt, Pacific coast shell, woven goods, and nonlocal obsidian (Hughes and Bennyhoff, 1986). When trade for European goods (horses, metal artifacts, glass beads, and munitions) began, possibly in the late 1600s in the eastern Great Basin, trade shifted from primarily perishables to primarily nonperishable goods (Hughes and Bennyhoff, 1986).

Depending on resource abundance and the state of intergroup relationships in any given year, the Numa shared resource areas with their neighbors. Root-gathering areas in Warner Valley, for example, were shared by multiple Northern Paiute groups. To the northwest, they shared a hunting area with the Klamath/Modoc, while fishing and hunting areas on Fandango and Lassen Creeks were shared with the Achomawi (Kelly, 1932: 70–74). The boundary between the Northern Paiute and Western Shoshone just east of Winnemucca was also considered a joint-use area (Fowler and Liljeblad, 1986: 437).

Leadership and group dynamics: Households based on the biological family (parents and children) were the basis for social, political, and economic life (Steward, 1938: 239–246). They were largely economically self-sufficient and socially and politically independent. It would have been difficult for an individual to survive while living alone. Thus, people actively worked to live in a household and, in turn, a household was an individual’s daily face-to-face group. All food, except large game, belonged to the household of the person acquiring it. Although the household was the most stable social and economic unit among the Numa, it could be disrupted by death or divorce, or enlarged by adding relatives, especially grandparents and a child’s spouse (Steward, 1938: 239–246). A year of matrilocal residence (often part of the bride price) to establish a man’s economic potential was common; this was often followed by a similar period of patrilocal residence. In this way, a young couple lived with one set of parents or the other until they reproduced and established an independent household.

Marriage created a new household that was embedded in an alliance between two larger bilateral kindreds (Kelly, 1932: 164–167; Steward, 1938: 240–241). After an initial arranged marriage, the alliance could be maintained by the common practice of fraternal polyandry (two or more brothers married to the same wife; Steward, 1936; Park, 1937; Stewart, 1937). Polyandry also included hospitality and sexual access extended to the household head’s brother if he lived in the household. In this context, a woman would have two men hunting for her household but would also have more mouths to feed. Other, similar marriage forms were also practiced. If the wife could not perform her role in a household, the husband was offered the chance to marry one of her sisters and keep the alliance alive (sororate: sisters as serial wives). Upon remarriage to a sister, the wife’s family did not have to return the bride price. In the same way, when a man failed to perform his household duties, his brother was offered the opportunity to marry the wife and maintain the kindred alliance (levirate: brothers as serial husbands).

Political organization and group leadership beyond the family depended on the need for cooperation and management for specific activities. A household head led the family in daily activities and represented the family in winter villages and at other multifamily activities (Steward, 1938: 246–253). The eldest or most experienced household head directed activities when several families informally worked or camped together. His authority rested on willing deference by other household heads.

After the household, the next largest social grouping was the winter camp or village, which consisted of a group of up to 20 related households, including those of the parents, married children, and parental brothers and sisters. Within a named foraging territory, village families tended to travel together and camp near each other. Village members shared resources and defended each other, especially against wife abduction, or helped each other with wife abduction or horse rustling. A village head’s authority was normally limited to specific activities—hunts, dances, wars, and ceremonies—at specific places and times. However, a leader’s continuing success and longevity in office could lead to an expansion of his or her advice and counsel beyond a specific activity or group. Village heads could use larger gatherings to talk together and manage intervillage relationships.

Smaller villages did not have identified heads. However, larger villages had two kinds of leaders, called poinabi in Northern Paiute (Steward, 1938: 246–253; Fowler, 1992: 164–167). One was the spokesman (niminaa in Northern Paiute; teg’wani in Western Shoshone) for the group, and the others were persons who organized specific activities (Fowler, 1992: 164–167). The spokesman received visitors, offered advice, and kept the village informed about resource conditions and upcoming events or activities (Fowler, 1992: 164–165). The spokesman would be replaced if people lost confidence in his advice and counsel. When village families chose to follow the spokesman’s lead in residential movement and subsistence activities, he organized the trip and managed daily activities while away from the village. However, any household or family within a household was at liberty to pursue an independent course at any time.

There were no permanently constituted groups above the village. Periodically, various villages or households from different villages gathered for specific events, such as dances (fandangos), communal hunting, communal gathering, or other activities. These events, which could last several weeks, were organized and managed by temporary leaders with a reputation for conducting successful events. At larger events, village headmen talked together and assisted the event leader by exhorting their people to behave, have a good time, cook for everyone, and help with communal activates.

Event leaders obtained authority primarily through visions that gave them the power (puha) to be skilled in doctoring, hunting, antelope charming, jackrabbit drives, war, ceremonies, or dances. Through time, successful leaders became widely known and respected and assumed a greater role in general political and social life. In other words, their achieved status at a particular activity could become generalized through time.

Leadership and Group Dynamics

The nature of Numa political organization and leadership in Nevada has been debated over the years and never resolved (C. Fowler, 1992: 164–167). For example, Steward (1938: 246–253) reported that village heads did not settle individual disputes, but Kelly (1932: 182–183) reported that they did. In general, Stewart (1939) argued for a band-level organization with geographically fixed territories in which political leaders directed daily activities, settled disputes, determined camp moves, and maintained external relationships. On the other hand, Steward (1937) claimed that bands were the result of Euro-American contact and that in the past, territoriality and leadership had been much more ephemeral. According to Steward there were no chiefs per se, just individuals who could direct group activities at specific places and for a limited time. Territories waxed and waned depending on group membership, which could change whimsically based on individual residence decisions. However, Kelly and Steward agreed that leadership and group dynamics were fluid and determined by personal initiative rather than by birth.

Understanding Numa leadership requires an understanding of the concept of spirit power or life force (puha) and its impact on places, people, or events. As described in the ethnographic literature (Fowler and Liljeblad, 1986; Thomas et al., 1986; Fowler, 1992; Bengston, 2003; Rucks, 2003), Great Basin groups believe in a universe that is literally a living entity. In this animated universe, everything is imbued with differing amounts of volition and spirit power. The amount, nature, or intensity of power can change through time and across space in ways that cause events at particular places and times, or that allow individuals or groups to succeed or fail. Important events happen at particular places because those places have more spirit power than do others. Important people and groups arise because they have high spirit power relative to others. Conversely, people and places can lose spirit power and fall into obscurity. Once acquired, power can be used for good or evil (Lowie, 1924: 291; Riddell, 1978: 77–78).

The length of time a leader can control a group’s labor, and the size of the group that can be controlled, depends on the leader’s reputation. Group and event leaders with appropriate puha are allowed to direct group activities and, as they are repeatedly successful, their puha is assumed to rise according. Successful leaders attract people to them and can maintain a group as long as their puha lasts—sometimes for years or decades (Kelly, 1932; Steward, 1938; Riddell, 1978). However, if an individual starts to fail, his or her puha is assumed to be waning and eventually people will no longer turn to him or her for leadership. Instead, they will drop their association with the failing leader and affiliate with an up-and-coming, successful leader. If the old leader is recognized as a group asset, this transition will be easier than if they are not. This means that people have to continue to be good at what they do to be known as an asset to a group. That is, they must continually signal success at economic and social activities.

The loosely bounded groups characteristic of the Numa were held together by bilateral kinship connections and consensus group membership (Fowler and Liljeblad, 1986; Thomas et al., 1986; Fowler, 1992; Bengston, 2003; Rucks, 2003). Active participation in the group’s political, social, and economic activities reinforced kinship to such an extent that there was mutual agreement as to membership (Steward, 1938). In this system, group membership is fluid and not necessarily congruent with language. A person could abandon a group and take up with another. Groups could expel or recruit members. While this flexibility was available in principle, most people lived in one or two groups throughout their lives—usually the group into which they were born or the group into which they married. Over time, groups formed, prospered, declined, and disappeared as people made pragmatic decisions about which kinship connections to cultivate and which to let wither.

Local Land-use Patterns

Based on their group dynamics, ethnohistoric Numa families and individuals became generally identified with loosely bounded districts that were named geographically or for a primary food resource they used (Steward, 1937, 1938; Stewart, 1939, 1941). The Northern Paiute focused on resource-based place names, while the Western Shoshone also used geographic designations. Named districts tended to be valley bottoms bounded by mountain crests that included camping places, water sources, and resource areas habitually used by the people identified with the district (Steward, 1938; Stewart, 1939). The people in the district maintained use-rights to the resources and could control access to them (Bengston, 2003; Rucks, 2003). Among the Western Shoshone, but apparently not the Paiute in northern Nevada, individual families effectively owned particular resource patches, such as pinyon groves or willow stands. However, people also maintained extensive kinship and sharing connections outside their home districts that allowed access to exotic goods and provided a safety net during hard times.

In the 1930s and again during the Indian Claims Commission hearings (1978–1973), anthropologists spent considerable time trying to define Numa aboriginal territories (Park et al., 1938; Ray et al., 1938; Steward, 1938, 1939; Stewart, 1939, 1941, 1966). The territorial discussions focused on defining boundaries and identifying chiefs, and did not usually identify villages or traditional use areas. However, Kelly (1932) identified Northern Paiute villages, as did Steward (1938).

Other than the Barrel Springs Traditional Cultural Property (Deur, 2010) and the reroute of the project corridor north of the Summit Lake Prayer Rocks in the High Rock Country, recent ethnographic work and consultations for this project identified only general areas of contemporary and historical importance, most of which were not in or close to the project corridor (Bengston, 2003). For the Northern Paiute, these included the Hot Springs Range, Paradise Valley, Kelly Creek, and the Santa Rosa Mountains in the Upper Lahontan Basin (Bengston, 2003). For the Western Shoshone, the only area crossed by the route was Upper Rock Creek in the Upper Humboldt Plain (Bengston, 2003). Other than a general identification, specific locations for specific concerns were not provided.

High Rock Country (Northern Paiute): Among the four regions defined for the project, the High Rock Country offered the best opportunity for reasonably stable and predictable settlement and subsistence patterns. The northwestern part of the region had good geophyte patches and abundant antelope populations. This area is also highlighted by Fowler and Liljeblad (1986: 437) as a Northern Paiute population concentration.

Kidütökadö (Marmot Eaters) were the Northern Paiute people occupying northwest Nevada, northeast California, and south central Oregon (see fig. 14; Kelly, 1932: 77–78; Stewart, 1939: 135; Fowler and Liljeblad, 1986: 437;). Most of the information on these people comes from Surprise Valley, where they lived in more or less permanent villages composed of five to six families occupying separate houses. As we have mentioned, most people had at least two winter settlements, moving between them as food resources were exhausted.

Most villages were in the rain shadow of the eastern escarpment of the Warner Mountains along Modoc County Road 1, the paved north-south route through Surprise Valley and its unpaved extension to Adel, Oregon. Their northernmost winter camp was in the vicinity of Plush, Oregon. Adel was also a favored winter settlement, as was Lake Annie north of Fort Bidwell in Surprise Valley. There was a major camp at Fort Bidwell, three near Lake City, and several along the creek at the foot of Cedar Pass near Cedarville. There were no winter villages on the east side of Surprise Valley, nor in the uplands near Barrel Springs. Although not mentioned in the ethnographic accounts, it seems possible that the lowland areas in Long Valley east of the Barrel Springs upland could have served as winter settlements as well.

In addition to the Kidütökadö, the High Rock Country included the Northern Paiute district of the Aga’ ipañinadökadö (Fish Lake Eaters), or the Moadökadö (Wild Onion Eaters), around Summit Lake. This district is not considered to have been a population concentration (Fowler and Liljeblad, 1986: 437), and little is known about the people living here, as they were identified only by their neighbors (i.e., Stewart [1939: 135–136] could not find any consultants from these groups).

Upper Lahontan Basin (Northern Paiute): The Upper Lahontan Basin was not as productive as the High Rock Country, as it was measurably hotter and drier. Fowler and Liljeblad (1986: 437) do, however, note two population concentrations: one on the Quinn River and the other along the Little Humboldt River. These drainages also facilitated north-south travel between the Humboldt and Snake river areas.

The Atsakudöka (Red Butte Dwellers) district centered on the Quinn River, and Stewart (1939: 136) notes that marshland habitat at its base was an important resource patch for local people. Yamosöpö tuviwarai (Those Who Live in Paradise Valley, or Half-Moon Valley Dwellers) was on the Little Humboldt River in Paradise Valley (Stewart, 1939: 136). The district was organized around the village of Yamosöpö tuviwarai, and included Paradise Valley, the Santa Rosa Mountains, the Snowstorm Mountains, the northern half of the Osgood Mountains, and the entire Little Humboldt River drainage. The eastern boundary of the district, along Milligan Creek, formed the approximate boundary between the Northern Paiute and the Western Shoshone (Stewart, 1941).

Upper Humboldt Plains (Western Shoshone): The Upper Humboldt Plains mark the northern expanse of the Humboldt River watershed. While Steward (1938: 152–154) identifies the Humboldt River Valley as one of the most fertile habitats in Nevada, he also notes that districts north of the river were much less productive and dependable. Most people tended to winter along the Humboldt or Snake River and occupy outlying areas, like most of the project corridor, during the rest of year. It follows, therefore, that the Upper Humboldt Plains were not a major habitation area. Instead, the area was used mostly by people traveling between the Snake and Humboldt rivers, for chert quarrying, and for short-term subsistence forays, particularly focused on dry land root crops, small seeds, and the opportunistic hunting of small and large game.

Four of Steward’s (1938) districts overlap the corridor, including Tosawhii, Independence Valley, North Fork, and Mary’s River (see fig. 14). The Tosawhii District was a large territory running along the border with the Northern Paiute from the north end of Reese River to the Oregon border. Steward (1937) locates the main Tosawhii winter village between Iron Point and Battle Mountain but does not identify any villages on or near the project corridor. He also notes that there was “little occupation” of the area on both sides of the Nevada/Idaho border. This lack of northern villages is also the case in the Independence Valley and Mary’s River districts, although the latter area had multiple villages extending six miles north of the Humboldt River (but still located about six miles south of the study corridor).

The North Fork of the Humboldt River was slightly different. Although Steward (1938: 140) views it as a hinterland largely used to hunt antelope and small game or traverse on the way to the Jarbidge Mountains to hunt deer, he does report two villages not too far away from the project corridor. These villages were thought to contain four to five families, but up to 10 on some occasions. He also states that there were no fish in the North Fork (Steward, 1938: 159), but this appears to be incorrect, as fish remains have been found in archaeological deposits along its banks in Tule Valley (McGuire et al., 2004), and fish are present in the river today.

Thousand Springs Valley (Western Shoshone): Population densities appear to have been quite low in the Thousand Springs Valley, but Steward (1938: ix) does note the presence of two villages along Thousand Springs Creek quite close to the project corridor. He also mentions that Montello could have been a population center, but presents little information to support this idea (Steward, 1938: 157). Groups living in the area during historic times were known to winter at Fort Hall and may have had some connection with the people of the Grouse Creek District of northwestern Utah (also known as the Pine Nut Eaters), perhaps wintering with them as well. It is also important to note that pinyon groves currently exist in the mountains along the eastern margins of the basin and probably played a significant role in the land-use patterns of the region.

Generally speaking, however, the area was sparsely occupied and typically used as a transportation corridor between the Humboldt and Snake River drainages, and, when conditions were right, for antelope drives. Although ethnographic information is limited in this regard, the archaeological record is well known for its juniper drive fences and associated artifacts (Jensen, 2007; Hockett and Murphy, 2009; Hockett et al., 2013).

CHAPTER 4: FIELD AND ANALYTICAL METHODS

Jerome King

This chapter outlines the field and analytical methods used during the project. Due to the large scale of the effort, only a general outline is presented here. More detailed descriptions are available in Hildebrandt et al. (2015).

Field Methods

Formal data recovery work took place at 578 prehistoric sites—326 in the High Rock Country, 67 in the Upper Lahontan Basin, 145 in the Upper Humboldt Plains, and 40 in Thousand Springs Valley.

Fieldwork strategies followed the same basic pattern throughout the project area. Work began with a close-interval walkover and surface collection. All surface artifacts, including tools and debitage, were pin flagged. At larger sites, debitage concentrations were flagged without marking every item. With the exception of larger ground stone artifacts, all formal tools within the impact zone (e.g., projectile points, bifaces, hand stones) were piece plotted and collected. Large pieces of milling equipment were subjected to a detailed in-field analysis, using the same set of attributes used for collected specimens (see Laboratory and Analytical Methods, page 116). Surface debitage was not collected, except in circumstances where samples for sourcing and obsidian hydration would have been unavailable otherwise.

Systematic excavation followed surface collections at all but a few sites. Excavation units were dug in surface-parallel levels, except where warranted by the presence of features. All excavated sediment was screened through 1/8″ hardware mesh, and all cultural materials were collected. Excavation typically began with a series of shovel probes to determine the presence or absence of subsurface deposit. Shovel probes measured 50 × 25 centimeters and were excavated in 10 cm levels to sterile soil, or as deep as practical, generally no more than 60 cm. Where shovel probes indicated possible depth, 1 × 1 m and/or 1 × 2 m control units were excavated. These were also dug in 10 cm levels, except in feature contexts. Where warranted by features or other findings, contiguous units were opened to create larger exposures. In cases where shovel probes showed that artifacts were restricted to surface or near-surface contexts, surface scrapes were used. These were typically 2 × 2 m in size and excavated to a depth of 5 cm. Finally, rapid recovery units were used in addition to control units at one particularly productive site (26HU4943); these were similar to control units except that only tools were retained from the screen, not debitage. Along with standard documentation of the excavation efforts (e.g., level records), stratigraphic profiles and plan views for block exposures and features were drawn and photographed as necessary. Excavation totals by unit type are shown in table 9.

Some sites, particularly those in the Barrel Springs lava uplands at the northwest end of the High Rock Country, were dominated by bare rock, with very little sediment from which subsurface cultural materials could be recovered. At these sites, systematic surface collection units were laid out in lieu of surface scrapes, and all cultural materials within them were collected.

A total of 203 sediment samples was collected during fieldwork, typically from feature contexts, but also including column samples from selected sites. All samples were processed for flotation analysis, as described below.

Site maps were produced depicting the location of site and locus boundaries, surface tools, excavation units, and features, as well as prominent topographic features, vegetation, and hydrology. All excavation units, features, and surface artifacts were plotted using high-precision GPS units. All cartography was completed in a projectwide geographic information system (GIS). At the two large pronghorn trap complexes (sites 26EK3959 and 26EK12310), we also commissioned aerial photography and digital topographic mapping from Olympus Aerial Surveys, Inc., of Salt Lake City.

Data recovery efforts are listed individually by site in the regional summary chapters below (see chaps. 6 through 9), as well in the data appendices provided by Hildebrandt et al. (2015).

Laboratory and Analytical Methods

The collections were cataloged by Far Western Lab Director Elizabeth Honeysett and her staff under accession numbers obtained from the Nevada State Museum, where they will be curated in perpetuity. Cataloging procedures followed a standardized format, with all materials processed in sequential order (by site, unit, or feature and by level, from top to bottom). Each tool received an individual catalog number, while fauna, flora, debitage, etc., was assigned a group or lot number; debitage was grouped by basic raw material type (e.g., obsidian, CCS, basalt). Recovered materials were washed, placed in 4 mil plastic bags with acid-free specimen tags, and labeled with indelible ink. Catalog data were entered into a Microsoft SQL Server database. Selected artifacts (e.g., projectile points, beads) were scanned using a flatbed color scanner, and the images were stored in the catalog database.

Table 10 lists prehistoric artifacts collected from each site, as well as other materials collected primarily during the survey phase, such as isolates, and surface collections from sites that were not part of the data recovery program. These were subjected to all of the same artifact analyses as those from the excavated sites, despite not being part of the data recovery program. A small proportion of survey-phase materials was deaccessioned and returned to private landowners early in the project, so detailed analytical data could not be collected for all of these materials. The catalog, which includes materials from both survey and data recovery phases, is presented as an appendix in Hildebrandt et al. (2015), as are all other analytical data generated by the project.

Artifact Analyses

Beyond cataloging, a variety of special studies and analyses were carried out on most artifact types, as summarized below. Further detail on temporally sensitive artifacts, including projectile points, pottery, and beads, is provided in chapter 5.

Flaked stone: Flaked stone artifacts include projectile points, bifaces, crescents, drills, formed flake tools, simple flake tools, cores, core tools, and debitage. All tools, as well as a sample of debitage, were subjected to technological analyses. These analyses were carried out by lithic analyst William Bloomer.

Projectile points, as the name implies, are the bifacially flaked tips of darts or arrows, or fragments thereof that retain characteristic basal or hafting elements. These were subjected to a metric analysis and classified by type, as described in detail in chapter 5.

Bifaces show percussion and/or pressure flaking on opposing sides of a continuous margin. Most are basically symmetrical in plan and cross section. In addition to the basic measurements, technological observations noted during analysis of the biface assemblage included reduction stage, presence of cortex, fracture type, presence of a flake detachment scar, and reason for rejection or discard (structural flaw, human error). Reduction stage is the primary attribute used throughout the study and, hence, warrants additional discussion. Stage 1 bifaces display rough bifacial edges and thick, sinuous margins, with fewer than 60% of the perimeter edge shaped. Stage 2 bifaces are percussion-shaped specimens with a rough outline. Stage 3 bifaces are percussion-thinned, well-formed items. Evidence of intermittent pressure flaking is seen on Stage 4 bifaces, which are further reduced, more or less symmetrical preforms. Stage 5 bifaces are fragments of extensively pressure-flaked implements and are considered (nondiagnostic) finished tools (e.g., projectile points, knives).

Crescents are crescent-shaped bifaces. Horizontal plan-view symmetry of each end distinguishes crescents from other bifacial tools. Edge-grinding is often present along both lateral margins of the curved crescent body. Body section edge-grinding is considered a distinctive attribute of Great Basin crescents.

Drills have a unique morphology, consisting of a narrowly constricted bit used to bore a hole or perforate. Drills can be large or small, ranging from extensively shaped bifacial forms to flakes with minimal modification. The drill base is typically broader than the bit, shaped or unshaped, for holding or hafting. Morphological attributes specifically recorded for the drills include base modification, bit cross-section shape, bit length, and bit width. Some projectile points showing reworking into drills are cataloged as “projectile point/drill” and are included in both analyses.

Formed flake tools are flakes that have been modified, usually unifacially, to the degree that the original edge shape has been highly altered. They typically show steep, intrusive flaking on one or more margins. Technological observations on formed flake tools include flake type, presence of cortex, flake termination angle, whether the item might have been intended as a flake blank (i.e., a biface formed by fairly minimal modification on the margins of a flake), striking platform type, number and shape of worked edges, working edge angle, length and thickness of the tooled edge, and edge modification type (unifacial microchipping, bifacial pressure flaking, etc.). Simple flake tools exhibit limited edge modification and/or retouch that may be intentional or may result from casual use. In contrast to formed flake tools, the basic outline of the original flake remains essentially unaltered; these are equivalent to “used” or “utilized” flakes. Simple flake tools were subjected to the same analysis as the formed flake tools.

Attributes collected for cores and core tools include the pattern of flake removals (unpatterned, unidirectional, etc.), original artifact form (flake, cobble, etc.), and primary and secondary platform types (cortical, interior). For core tools, number of worked edges (if applicable), shape and length of worked edges, and type of edge modification were also recorded. Core tools also show flake removals, with subsequent damage or use evident, such as grinding or battering of a flaked edge. We also examined type of modification (e.g., end-battering, edge-grinding, edge-flaking), its extent, and the angle of the working edge, as well as the attributes recorded for cores.

A sample of the debitage from each single-component area was subjected to technological analysis, unless there were fewer than 20 items or no 1/8″ controlled excavations took place (i.e., surface-collected samples were avoided, due to their propensity to lack small items like pressure flakes). Diagnostic flakes were grouped initially into two primary types: percussion and pressure. Percussion flake types were then sorted into primary decortication, secondary decortication, simple interior, complex interior, edge preparation, early-stage biface thinning, and late-stage biface thinning. Pressure flakes include early pressure, late pressure, and notching pressure. Several nondiagnostic flake types are recognized, including edge preparation/pressure, angular shatter, and indeterminate fragments.

In addition to these technological analyses, a micrographic edge-wear analysis of selected flake tools and formed flake tools was carried out by Nathan Stevens.

Ground and battered stone: Technological analyses for all collected ground and battered stone specimens were carried out by Allika Ruby. Also included in the analysis are a number of larger specimens that were analyzed in the field but not collected. Ground and battered stone artifacts include milling stones, hand stones, pestles, bowl mortars, battered cobbles, and fragmented portions of milling equipment that could not be ascribed to a specific category (miscellaneous ground stone). Attributes noted for all tools included material type, condition (complete or fragmented), basic metrical information (maximum length, width, and thickness), number of wear surfaces, wear intensity, and evidence for shaping, burning, secondary use, and residues. For milling stones and hand stones, additional attributes included overall planar shape and cross section, number of facets on each wear surface, wear surface planar shape and dimensions, and evidence for wear direction (striations) and rejuvenation (pecking). These attributes were also noted where present for miscellaneous ground stone fragments. Measurements for bowl mortars included interior cup and rim dimensions. The battered cobble analysis focused on characterization of both face and edge wear.

Other artifacts: Other artifacts recovered during the project include beads of various types (Olivella shell, stone, and a single glass trade bead); pottery; modified/shaped stone implements (e.g., abraders/shaft straighteners); modified bone; unmodified stone clearly transported to the site (i.e., manuports); and a few small pieces of baked clay and hematite/ochre. An analysis of the pottery was carried out by Sharlyn Street, the results of which are presented in chapter 5. A typological analysis of the shell and stone beads is also presented in chapter 5. Bone tools were subjected to the same taxonomic identification program as the rest of the bone (see Faunal Analysis, directly below).

Faunal Analysis

Faunal remains were sorted initially by Maureen Carpenter and identified by Tim and Kim Carpenter, using comparative collections at the University of California, Davis; University of California, Berkeley Museum of Vertebrate Zoology; and collections in possession of the analysts. All specimens were sorted by identifiable element and taxonomic grouping. When possible, each specimen was identified to anatomical element (ulna, femur, etc.). Portion of the element such as proximal, distal, or shaft fragment was also recorded. Fragmentary specimens for which the element could not be determined were divided into general categories including long bone, flat bone, cancellous bone, or indeterminate bone fragment. Degree of burning was then noted for each specimen. If an element (or group of elements) was identified as of natural rather than cultural origin, it was noted as likely intrusive. Any element that showed immature features such as epiphyseal lines were noted as such, but no attempt was made to determine the age of the animal.

Specimens were identified to the most specific taxonomic level possible. When condition of the bone (i.e., fragmentation or burning) precluded genus- or species-level identification, fragments were identified to the family, order, or size/class level. Whenever specimens resembled a particular species but could not be conclusively identified as such, the note “(cf.)” (compares [favorably] with) was included in the comment section of the appendices and tables.

Mammalian specimens, including those that could not be identified beyond the level of class, were separated into general size categories similar to those defined by Thomas (1969; table 11). Small mammals include small rodents such as squirrels, pocket gophers, mice, voles, and the smaller rabbits (cottontails and pygmy rabbits). Small-medium mammals include primarily jackrabbits (hares), marmots, and larger squirrels and may include, on occasion, some of the smaller carnivores. Medium mammals include mostly medium-sized carnivorous mammals such as bobcats, foxes, coyotes, dogs, etc. Medium-plus mammals (Medium+) are likely the remains of medium-large mammals but cannot be definitively assigned. Medium-large mammals include most of the artiodactyls, such as deer, pronghorn, bighorn, and the like. Large mammals in this region include primarily elk, domestic cow, and bison.

Unidentified species of birds were similarly sorted into small, medium, medium+, large and extra-large size classes (table 11). Again, the size distinctions are somewhat arbitrary and were compiled by the analysts based on average weight for each species. In general, class and order of birds tend to group in the same arrangement as their families and body size. Unidentified vertebrate remains (mostly unidentified small mammals or birds) were also size sorted. Any cultural and noncultural modifications to the bone were also recorded. Cultural modifications may include burning, cut marks, polishing, striations, etc. Modified bone was noted as such. Noncultural modifications include weathering such as water wear or sandblasting, as well as gnawing and digestive pitting or staining by rodents, carnivores, and birds of prey.

Flotation Analysis

The 203 sediment samples were flotation processed by Angela Tingey, Gina Caretti, and William Stillman, employing a manual technique used throughout California and Nevada (Wohlgemuth, 1989). Buoyant light fraction was collected using 40 mesh/inch (0.4 mm) screen, with heavy fraction washed through 3 mm (1/8″) and 1 mm (window screen) mesh. Inasmuch as recovery effectiveness measured at other sites ranges from 85% to 95% of dense nutshell and more than 98% of small seeds, only the buoyant light fraction material was sorted for charred plant remains. The 0.3 mm screened portion of the heavy fraction was also sorted, with all cultural materials retained and cataloged.

Light fraction was size sorted using 2 mm, 1 mm, 0.7 mm, and 0.5 mm mesh. Wendy Pierce, assisted by Eric Wohlgemuth, sorted light fractions for charred seeds, nutshell, and other dietary debris. Each size grade, including samples of the 0.4 mm residue, was examined at using a binocular microscope at ×10–15 magnifications. Wood charcoal was sorted to the 1 mm grade but was not identified to species. All segregated constituents were counted, and fragments of nutshell and wood charcoal were weighed to 0.1 mg. Constituents were stored in translucent, hard plastic centrifuge tubes with acid-free paper tags denoting site number, sample number, size grade, and a constituent type code. All items of a single type or taxon were stored (in separate centrifuge tubes for each provenience and size grade) in 4 mil plastic bags with acid-free paper labels. All tags were labeled with a #2 pencil.

Radiocarbon Dating

A total of 101 radiocarbon assays was made during the project, most from plant charcoal pulled from flotation sample light fractions, but also including juniper limbs from the two pronghorn trap complexes (26EK3959 and 26EK12310), charcoal recovered during feature excavation, bison bone collagen, and bulk soil. All assays were done by Beta Analytic, Inc., of Miami, Florida. See chapter 5 for further discussion and a summary of results.

Obsidian Hydration and
Geochemical Sourcing

Source-specific obsidian hydration measurements were a key method of dating many of the project sites. Accordingly, a very large sample of artifacts was submitted for these analyses from both the survey and the data recovery phases, totaling more than 8000 items (table 12). In all, 6669 viable source-specific hydration measurements were obtained from these specimens.

Survey-phase sourcing and hydration were done on selected projectile points and bifaces, as well as small surface samples from selected sites, numbering about 1500 specimens. The survey-phase hydration/sourcing program was halted at agency request partway through the survey fieldwork, so not all sites were sampled during that phase. Hydration from the survey phase was measured at Pacific Legacy’s in-house laboratory; geochemical sourcing was done by Richard Hughes.

The data recovery sampling program included all diagnostic projectile points, plus a random sample of debitage from a controlled excavation or surface-collection context. Typically, 10 items were analyzed per site or locus. Sampling was random in all but a very few cases, where glassy obsidian was preferentially selected over nonglassy varieties (likely representing Nut Mountain and Unknown B). Some debitage samples were also selected from radiocarbon-dated contexts, to help develop hydration brackets (see chap. 5). Finally, some samples were selected from the lower levels of excavation units with intact stratigraphy, to explore possible vertical separation of components.

Treatment-phase geochemical sourcing was done by Richard Hughes, as during the survey phase. All specimens subjected to hydration measurement were also geochemically sourced (i.e., no visual sourcing was attempted), except at one site (26HU4926), a Massacre Lake/Guano Valley quarry site where a subset of the analyzed specimens (20 of 58) were assumed to be from that source.

All treatment-phase hydration measurement was carried out by Tom Origer. During this phase, projectile points were sampled for hydration analysis by removing a small flake, rather than by making the typical cut into the artifact, to minimize damage and maintain the visual integrity of the specimens. Also, after learning that certain obsidian types with a grainy texture failed to produce viable hydration rims, it was decided to stop preparing hydration slides for specimens made from this material. Geochemical sourcing showed that these primarily included Nut Mountain and Unknown B. A few specimens from these sources did have a glassy texture and could be measured, however.

CHAPTER 5: CHRONOLOGICAL CONTROLS

Jerome King

Establishing the age of an archaeological deposit is fundamental to its interpretation. This section describes the various methods used to determine the age of the project sites, including the use of temporally diagnostic artifacts, radiocarbon dates, and obsidian hydration measurements. The goal of these dating procedures was to isolate sites, or parts thereof, into discrete spatiotemporal components, and to place those components into the larger project chronology described earlier (see chap. 3).

Diagnostic Artifacts

Diagnostic artifacts recovered from the project sites primarily included projectile points, but we also recovered a small assemblage of pottery and a few shell, stone, and glass beads. Some of these artifacts were collected as isolated finds, or from sites along the pipeline that were not subjected to data recovery treatment; however, they are discussed here because they provide useful additional data points for some of the landscape-level studies presented later.

Projectile Points and Crescents

A very large collection of projectile points was assembled during survey and data recovery, totaling 2249 unique specimens. Many of these could be assigned to commonly known types, some with well-established time ranges during which they were produced, others less so. Type assignments were made using a set of morphological and metrical attributes originally described by Thomas (1981a) for use in the central Great Basin, with some additions and modifications to accommodate local types (table 13; Hildebrandt and King, 2002). The type assignments also employed a “dart-arrow index” for notched points, to make the key distinction between those generally larger point types that were made to tip darts versus those made to tip arrows (Hildebrandt and King, 2012). This index is simply the neck width plus thickness, which gives an easily measured proxy for the overall robustness of the hafting area. As discussed by Hildebrandt and King (2012), an index value of 11.8 mm proves effective at distinguishing between still-hafted archaeological darts and arrows, and provides a workable split between similarly shaped point types that differ mostly according to size, and that are commonly interpreted as dart points versus arrow points (e.g., Elko versus Rosegate).

All points were scanned on a flatbed color scanner as a part of the type assignment process. Angular measurements (proximal and distal shoulder angles) were made on-screen on the digital images of the points, using the TPSdig digital measurement program (Rohlf, 2009). Many calls remained tentative because metrical attributes were incomplete or violated the criteria set out in table 13 in a minor way, while still suggesting the overall form of the type. Results of typological assignment of the 2249 points are shown in table 14. Metrical attributes and assigned types of individual projectile points are presented in Hildebrandt et al. (2015).

An additional 392 points were noted during fieldwork but not collected, typically because they were outside the pipeline project area. While direct metrical analysis of these items obviously was not possible, we created scaled digital images from in-field photographs and used those in conjunction with in-field measurements to arrive at typological assignments.

As discussed in the Obsidian Hydration section on page 140, a large body of source-specific hydration measurements provides some independent support for the temporal integrity of many of the types described here, if not their actual age ranges.

Great Basin Concave Base: This projectile point series includes concave-based lanceolate forms exhibiting edge-grinding and variable amounts of fluting/basal thinning (fig. 16). Few of the 12 specimens recovered show definitive characteristics of Clovis points, so they are classified collectively as Great Basin Concave Base, following the lead of Clewlow (1968), Layton (1970), Beck and Jones (2009), and Smith (2010). Their exact age is difficult to determine, as they are rarely found in buried, dateable contexts. Instead, they are usually found in surface contexts associated with both fluted and Great Basin Stemmed points. For the purpose of this project, they are assigned to the Paleoindian Period, as most researchers think they are probably intermediate in age between Clovis and Great Basin Stemmed points (see Beck and Jones, 2009, for an in-depth discussion of this issue). We admit, however, that this assignment is far from definitive.

Great Basin Stemmed: Great Basin Stemmed–series points are weakly shouldered projectiles with relatively long contracting stems and rounded bases (fig. 16). Stem margins are often ground. This series subsumes an assortment of forms recognized throughout the Great Basin, including Cougar Mountain, Parman, Lind Coulee, and Windust (Layton, 1979; Pendleton, 1979; Tuohy and Layton, 1979; Beck and Jones, 2009). They are classic indicators of the Paleoarchaic Period (12,800–7800 cal b.p.) but, as noted in chapter 3, there is some limited evidence that they might be coeval or even predate Clovis (Beck and Jones, 2010, 2012; Jenkins et al., 2012; cf. Goebel and Keene, 2014).

Fig. 16. Great Basin Concave Base, Great Basin Stemmed, and Crescent projectile points.

Crescents: The four crescents recovered during the project fall within the Type I (Quarter Moon Crescent; see fig. 16) subgroup established by Tadlock (1966). They are often associated with Great Basin Stemmed points, particularly in wetland habitats, and are considered outstanding indicators of the Paleoarchaic Period (Beck and Jones, 2009).

Northern Side-notched: Northern Side-notched points are primarily a Plateau and northern Great Basin phenomenon (Leonhardy and Rice, 1970; O’Connell, 1971, 1975; Layton, 1985; Sampson, 1985; Wilde, 1985; Delacorte and Basgall, 2012; Thomas, 2013). They are relatively large and triangular in outline, with notches placed high on the blade (fig. 17). Notches are typically deep and rounded, often resulting in a relatively narrow neck for dart points. The base typically has an arcuate incurving shape. Some specimens lacking this distinctive shape (and often referred to more generically as “Large Side-notched”) are included here, however. Although Northern Side-notched points are thought to date primarily to the Post-Mazama interval, there is some evidence that they may persist into the Early Archaic on the Modoc Plateau (Hildebrandt and Mikkelsen, 1994; Mikkelsen and Bryson, 1997; Hildebrandt and King, 2002).

Fig. 17. Northern Side-notched and Humboldt Concave Base projectile points.

Humboldt Concave Base: Initially defined by Heizer and Baumhoff (1961), these are unshouldered points with slightly to deeply concave bases and margins that are parallel or contract toward the base (fig. 17). Here, they are distinguished from Cottonwood forms by their larger size, particularly thickness (>4.7 mm thick; Cottonwood forms are typically well under 3 mm). Unfortunately, the temporal significance of these points remains poorly established. Delacorte (1997: 78–80) argues that, in contrast to other dating schemes for the Great Basin (Thomas, 1981a; Hall, 1983; Jackson, 1985; Basgall and McGuire, 1988; Delacorte and McGuire, 1993), the series appears to be predominantly an Early Archaic marker. In the current project area, Humboldt points are common in both Post-Mazama and Early Archaic contexts, which is largely consistent with obsidian hydration data generated by Layton (1985) from Last Supper Cave and Hanging Rock Shelter.

Gatecliff Split Stem: As defined by Thomas (1981), Gatecliff Split Stem points are shouldered dart points with parallel-sided stems and notched or concave bases (fig. 18). Radiocarbon dates from Gatecliff Shelter and other central Great Basin sites have established these as Early Archaic time markers. However, a wide range of contexts in the western and northwestern Great Basin indicate that they may have persisted well into the Middle Archaic, often occurring with Elko points (Bennyhoff and Hughes, 1987: 163; O’Connell and Inoway, 1994; McGuire, 1997: 171–172). Obsidian hydration results also suggest a high degree of overlap between Gatecliff and Elko forms (see Obsidian Hydration, page 140).

Contracting Stem dart: The temporal sensitivity of the few specimens assigned to this type is unclear, except for their general classification as dart points (fig. 18). Thomas’ (1981a) key identifies a Gatecliff Contracting Stem form coeval with Gatecliff Split Stem points, which would make them an Early Archaic marker. Delacorte (1997) argues that contracting stem forms lack the temporal resolution of Gatecliff Split Stem forms in the western Great Basin. Others have argued that the type may have an Early Archaic affiliation, based on their similarity to the Martis type from the northern Sierra Nevada (Milliken and Hildebrandt, 1997).

Fig. 18. Gatecliff Split Stem and Contracting Stem projectile points.

Elko series: Elko series points are corner-notched dart points with a flared base (fig. 19). As defined here, the Elko series includes only the Corner-notched and Eared varieties (cf. Heizer and Baumhoff, 1961; O’Connell, 1967; Heizer et al., 1968); in this study no attempt was made to differentiate these two variants. Elko points are generally considered Middle Archaic markers in the central and western Great Basin (Bettinger and Taylor, 1974; O’Connell, 1975; Thomas, 1981). However, some have proposed that Elko forms extend back to the Early Archaic (Mikkelsen and Bryson, 1997: 136; see also Hildebrandt and Mikkelsen, 1994; Milliken and Hildebrandt, 1997; Smith et al., 2013).

Lanceolate: These are leaf-shaped bifaces with convex edges and rounded bases, believed to be dart points because of their size and degree of finish (fig. 19). Variously referred to as “Steamboat” along the Sierran-Cascade Front (Elston and Davis, 1972; Elston et al., 1977; Elston, 1979) and “Gold Hill Leaf” to the north (Cressman, 1933; Davis, 1968, 1970), they have often been considered Middle Archaic markers. However, Hildebrandt and King (2002) saw little temporal sensitivity in the type along the Sierran-Cascade Front. Many may simply be projectile point blanks.

Fig. 19. Elko projectile points.

Rose Spring and Eastgate Series (“Rosegate”): The Rose Spring series comprises notched triangular arrow points with expanding stems, the bases of which vary from straight to moderately convex, sometimes with a central notch (Heizer and Baumhoff, 1961; Lanning, 1963). They can generally be described as corner notched, though many specimens are notched more or less vertically from the base, forming long barbs (fig. 20). No attempt was made in this study to distinguish the few longer-barbed specimens that would have been attributable to the contemporaneous Eastgate type (Heizer and Baumhoff, 1961; Bettinger, 1989), so the inclusive term “Rosegate” is used.

This type is largely a Late Archaic time marker. However, Hildebrandt and King (2002) argue that these points (and hence bow-and-arrow technology) may have been introduced to the western Great Basin somewhat earlier than previously believed, perhaps as early as 1900 b.p. This proposal is supported by a direct date of 1900 cal b.p. on a bag with two probable Rose Spring points from Dessication Cave, located less than 100 km south of the High Rock Country.

Small Stemmed: The Small Stemmed type (see Alkali Stemmed in O’Connell, 1971) was introduced during previous work along the Sierra-Cascade Front (Delacorte, 1997: 92–94), in part as a means to sort out some of the difficulties in classifying arrow points in the Modoc Plateau region (Hughes, 1986: 95). Small Stemmed points are arrow sized, with parallel-sided to slightly contracting stems (fig. 20). They are distinguished from Rosegate points by their generally lighter weight, broader notch-opening angles, and more parallel stem morphology. Small Stemmed points lack the characteristic hanging barbs of Gunther series points. Based on hydration data, as well as contextual evidence from Surprise Valley (O’Connell, 1971, 1975), Delacorte (1997: 94–95) concludes that Small Stemmed points are temporally distinct from the Gunther series, representing a Late Archaic to Terminal Prehistoric occupation possibly linked to pre-Numic populations.

Fig. 20. Lanceolate and Rosegate projectile points.

Desert Side-notched: Originally described by Baumhoff and Byrne (1959), Desert Side-notched points are small triangular arrow points with notches placed high on the sides; most are comparatively thin and long in relation to width (fig. 21). Many display a deep indentation or notch in the base. They are well-established markers of the Terminal Prehistoric Period (post-600 cal b.p.) in the southwestern Great Basin and may be ethnic markers for Numic populations (Delacorte, 2008). Because the Northern Paiute and Western Shoshone appear to have colonized northern Nevada relatively late in time (i.e., after 600 cal b.p.), it is possible that this point type arrived in the project corridor at that same time.

Fig. 21. Small Stemmed, Desert Side-notched, and Cottonwood projectile points.

Cottonwood Triangular: This point form is not well represented within the project area. These are small, unnotched triangular points (see fig. 21) considered to be Terminal Prehistoric markers in the Great Basin (Bettinger and Taylor, 1974; Thomas, 1981a). They tend to occur with Desert Side-notched points and the two are often combined into a single Desert Series. Cottonwoods could also be indicators of Numic populations within the project corridor.

Other types (dart sized, arrow sized, indeterminate): Points in the generic dart-sized category include fragmentary, typologically ambiguous, or morphologically unique specimens with thicknesses or dart-arrow index values identifying them as dart points. As such, all were presumably used to tip atlatl darts, dating them to the Middle Archaic or earlier.

As their name implies, arrow-sized points are distinguished from dart points in that they have dart/arrow indices of <11.8 and thus were presumably used to tip arrows. As with the dart points, nearly all of the arrow-sized specimens are incomplete, but given that they postdate the introduction of the bow, they are assumed to be Late Archaic or Terminal Prehistoric in age.

Points categorized as indeterminate are generally fragmentary specimens identifiable as points by the presence of a notch or other telltale hafting element, but not sufficiently complete or distinctive to be assigned to a particular type or even to the generic dart/arrow point categories. Thus they lack temporal utility, although they do serve as a functional indicator of hunting.

Pottery

Three types of pottery were recovered: Great Basin Brownware (N = 109), Great Salt Lake Grayware (N = 16), and Snake Valley Grayware (N = 1; table 15). Classification of these materials was based a variety of factors including wall color, wall thickness, decoration, artifact part, and ceramic paste and temper. Sherds were classified using typologies defined by Colton (1952) as well as Smith and Gratz (1977).

The Great Basin Brownware sherds include a large variety of interior and exterior wall colors that range from light to dark gray and light to dark brown. Average wall thickness is 6.2 mm, and all except two rim sherds are plain ware, lacking any decoration. The two decorated rims have incising along the exterior rim edge and a stamped circular pattern along the top of the rim. The core (or paste) also comprises a variety of colors, ranging from light to dark gray, light to dark brown, and black carbon most likely due to an uncontrolled firing atmosphere. Temper is extremely variable and unsorted, consisting of a mixture of angular to subangular clear to milky white quartz, mica, and traces of plagioclase, feldspar, and basalt in a few pieces. Brownware sherds postdate 600 cal b.p. and are outstanding indicators of the Terminal Prehistoric Period.

The Great Salt Lake Grayware sherds have a more limited array of interior and exterior wall colors—light brown and light gray. The average wall thickness is 4.4 mm, and all sherds are plain ware wall fragments. The core has a larger variety of colors ranging from medium to dark brown, light brown, and light to dark gray. Temper is composed of small, well-sorted pieces of angular clear and white quartz and/or mica. Great Salt Lake Grayware is one of the most common Fremont pottery types known and tends to be concentrated in northwestern Utah (Madsen, 1986). The current sample probably represents trade items from the east dating to the Late Archaic Period (1300–600 cal b.p.), which is consistent with Fremont pottery found by Hockett and Morgenstein (2003) at the Scorpion Ridge site near Elko, Nevada.

The one piece of Snake Valley Grayware has a light brown interior and exterior wall color and an average thickness of 4.7 mm. It is a plain ware wall fragment with a light brown core. The temper consists of a mixture of small, rounded clear quartz and large, angular milky quartz. It is also a Fremont artifact type but is most commonly found in southeastern Utah. It also corresponds to the Late Archaic Period (Madsen, 1986).

Beads

Seven Olivella shell, four stone, one glass, and 17 bone beads were recovered from project sites (fig. 22; table 16). The shell beads all come from just two sites (26HU4792 and 26HU5222). These were classified and dated following Bennyhoff and Hughes (1987) and Groza et al. (2011). The Olivella beads include two Tiny Saucers (G1; 2000–110 cal b.p.), one Tiny Saucer/Irregular Saucer (G5; 2000–110 cal b.p.), one Ground Saucer (G4; 1530–1360 cal b.p.), one Elliptical Saddle (F2D; 1530–1200 cal b.p.), one item that is either a Split Amorphous (C7; 930–680 cal b.p.) or a Split Drilled (C2; 2150–1530 cal b.p.), and one indeterminate fragment.

Fig. 22. Beads.

The four stone beads come from two sites (26EK9178/12133 and 26EK12394). All are perforated disks. One is made from steatite, while the others are made from an indeterminate stone. Their age is unknown. The single glass trade bead, from site 26EK12122, is a turquoise drawn/tumbled specimen of a type often referred to as seed, pound, and embroidery beads (Karklins, 1982; Ross, 1990). They are quite common in ethnohistoric sites in this region dating to the 1820s or later.

Seventeen bone beads and one piece of bead detritus were recovered (table 16; fig. 23). Most are made from the long bones of small mammals like jackrabbits and cottontails and all but one are fragmentary. They are manufactured by first being scored and then snapped, with the discarded ends falling into the detritus category. The resulting blank can be further scored and snapped, creating beads with short lengths (not much longer than they are wide) or left as relatively long tubular items. Additional modifications include polish and striations on their ends and lateral surfaces. Some also have decorations carved into their bodies. All but four from the current project appear to be undecorated fragments. Three of the remaining specimens have deep grooves encircling their bodies, while the others look similar in shape and size to the small “seed beads” traded during ethnohistoric times.

Bone beads are usually found in Late Archaic and Terminal Prehistoric components in the western Great Basin but are sometimes found in earlier contexts as well. Significant numbers have been recovered from late prehistoric structures in the Pah Rah Uplands northeast of Reno (McGuire et al., 2008) and along the Humboldt River near Lovelock (McGuire and Hildebrandt, 2013). A wider temporal affiliation was documented at Pie Creek Shelter (McGuire et al., 2004), Gatecliff Shelter (Thomas, 1983), and James Creek Shelter (Elston and Budy, 1990), where they date to the last 3200 years. This is also the case for the current study, where they occur in both Middle and Late Archaic contexts.

Fig. 23. Modified bone.

Radiocarbon

Data recovery yielded 101 radiocarbon dates. Most come from charred plant remains from flotation sample light fractions; the samples were taken from a variety of feature contexts (e.g., hearths, living surfaces) or more generalized midden deposits. They also include an assay from a bison bone and from wood samples taken from a series of pronghorn traps in Thousand Springs Valley (table 17). The calibrated intercept (or median of multiple intercepts) is the primary data point used in all components of this study.

Obsidian Hydration

Obsidian hydration is a key element of chronological control at the project sites. At many of the sites, in fact, it is the only method available to establish age. As a result, an extensive program of hydration measurement was undertaken, focusing on typed projectile points, contexts with radiocarbon dates, and samples of debitage from representative contexts within each site.

The rate of obsidian hydration is strongly affected by the geochemistry of the raw material, as well as ambient temperature. Thus, obsidian hydration results must be interpreted on a source-specific basis, and any interpretations must also take climatic factors into account. The project sites present a challenge for interpretation of hydration results, because of the huge geographical area over which the sites are spread, and because there is such a wide variety of obsidian sources represented. Further, hydration characteristics of most of these obsidians are not well understood.

Here we develop estimated hydration measurement ranges by time period (“brackets”) for eight of the nine most common obsidian sources in the sample, including Massacre Lake/Guano Valley, Mosquito Lake, Bidwell Mountain/Cowhead Lake, Bordwell Group, Craine Creek, Double H, Paradise Valley, and Browns Bench. (While Nut Mountain obsidian is also common in the sample, it is usually opaque and usually cannot be measured for hydration.) These eight sources comprise more than 85% of the viable source-specific hydration measurements obtained during the project, with the remainder including minor sources and unknowns (table 18).

We steer clear of proposing actual hydration rate equations for these sources because of the many uncertainties involved, most prominent among them being a lack of temperature data that would allow accurate estimates of effective hydration temperature. Some measure of control over temperature is provided, however, by developing our brackets on a region-specific basis. We assume that the temperature regime is sufficiently uniform over each of the four project regions that the brackets can be applied to all sites in a particular region.

We take two approaches in developing these estimates: (1) correlations between average hydration measurements and radiocarbon dates from the same feature context or unit level; and (2) correlations between average hydration measurements for samples of various projectile point types versus the midpoint of the commonly accepted age ranges of those point types. The latter approach, while common in obsidian studies regionally (e.g., Leach, 1988; Hall and Jackson, 1989), involves additional layers of inference and is obviously less reliable than the former. In both cases, however, we take the same general approach, which is to run a simple regression of averaged hydration measurements versus calendar age, with outlying hydration measurements removed using Chauvenet’s criterion. The regression takes the form y = x², where y is time in calendar years b.p. and x is the hydration measurement in microns. A large body of theoretical and experimental data shows that the hydration process follows this form; i.e., it slows as the square root of time (Doremus, 2000; Rogers, 2007). Thus, while marginally better results might be obtained by letting the regression take other forms, we constrain it to this one.

Next, having calculated these regressions, we calculate the hydration brackets by using the regressions to find the hydration measurement equivalent to each time period boundary. While these regressions may in fact be interpreted as hydration rate equations, we do not employ them as such, since we feel that would imply an unwarranted level of precision. In addition, our general approach to hydration is to use it for identifying temporal components, not as an absolute chronometric tool; therefore, we feel the brackets are a more appropriate expression of our results.

Massacre Lake/Guano Valley

The Massacre Lake/Guano Valley source is by far the most common in our study, representing 35% of the entire sample of hydration measurements. It is also one of the few for which a hydration rate has been previously proposed. Leach (1988) develops a rate based on a sample of 28 typed projectile points from the immediate area of Massacre Lake, using the midpoint-age approach. Leach proposes several different formulations but ultimately settles on a power-function rate of y = 14.81x3.2. She notes that this rate equation performs reasonably well for smaller measurements but gives unacceptably early age estimates for larger ones. Because Leach’s rate equation does not follow theoretical expectations about the hydration process, and because a much larger sample of hydration measurements is now available, we start afresh in developing age estimates for this source.

This is also the only source for which a suitably large sample of hydration measurements from radiocarbon-dated contexts is available to calculate a regression of hydration measurements versus radiometric ages. All of these contexts are in the High Rock Country. A regression of the average hydration readings in these contexts versus radiometric age is shown in table 19 and figure 24. While there are additional pairings that could be made, only those with five or more Massacre Lake/Guano Valley hydration readings are shown. As figure 24 shows, the correlation between radiocarbon dates and hydration readings is reasonably good. However, some of the pairs fall well below the regression line. This results from situations where the radiocarbon date and the hydration specimens appear not to be functionally associated, in particular, where Middle Archaic or earlier lithics are found with a Late Archaic or Terminal Prehistoric feature. This palimpsest problem is a common one in Great Basin archaeology, particularly in the surface and near-surface contexts from which many of these pairings come. Even retaining these apparently spurious associations, the overall correlation between radiocarbon age and average hydration measurement is strong
(y = 198.47x²; r² = 0.86). The most important data points in the regression are the two earliest sites, 26HU4943 and 26HU5105, both of which date to about 11,000 cal b.p., with hydration averaging about 7 μm.

Fig. 24. Regression of Massacre Lake hydration/radiocarbon pairs.

A very large sample of typed projectile points from the Massacre Lake/Guano Valley source is also available, which we can use to employ the midpoint-age approach as an independent verification. The projectile points used are shown in table 20. As the table shows, 270 typed points are available, including 23 of those reported by Leach (1988). The regression given by the averages for each type versus the midpoint of their commonly accepted age ranges gives a strikingly similar result to that given by the radiocarbon associations (y = 196.40x²; r² = 0.89).

Mosquito Lake

This source is restricted to the westernmost parts of the project area. A relatively small sample of only 30 typed points is available, including two reported by Leach (1988). Nonetheless, the regression of midpoint age versus hydration mean works reasonably well (table 20).

Bidwell Mountain/Cowhead Lake

This source is also limited to the westernmost project area. A relatively large sample of typed projectile points is available. The midpoint-age regression appears to work quite well (table 20), indicating that this source hydrates more slowly than most others in the region.

Bordwell group

This group of sources includes Bordwell Spring, Pinto Peak, and Fox Mountain. While geochemically distinguishable, these are treated as a group for the purposes of interpreting hydration measurements, following the approach taken by the Tuscarora and Alturas projects (Hildebrandt and King, 2002). This is the only source group common in both the Ruby and Tuscarora/Alturas datasets. While a relatively small sample of 39 typed points is available with which to develop brackets, the regression of mean ages versus mean hydration works extremely well (table 20). In addition, the resulting brackets are in excellent agreement with those proposed for the northern reaches of the Tuscarora and Alturas projects (Hildebrandt and King, 2002: 21), despite using entirely independent datasets.

Craine Creek

A sample of 61 typed projectile points is available from the newly identified Craine Creek source. Despite the relatively small sample size, the regression of mean hydration readings versus midpoint ages works very well (see table 20), and indicates that this material hydrates quite slowly compared to other sources.

Double H

A sample of 71 typed projectile points is available for this source, which, for the purposes of interpreting hydration measurements, is grouped with the geochemically similar Whitehorse source (Young et al., 2008). The regression of mean hydration versus midpoint age works reasonably well (see table 20).

Paradise Valley

For the Paradise Valley source, a sample of 201 projectile points is available. In addition to the projectile points from the Ruby project, this sample includes a number of points from throughout the eastern part of the project area, provided by Elko BLM archaeologist William Fawcett (personal commun., 2011). As table 20 shows, the regression versus midpoint ages works well.

Browns Bench

There have been at least two previous discussions of Browns Bench obsidian hydration. Hockett (1995) presents a compilation of hydration readings for selected projectile point types, as part of a study intended to show the usefulness of hydration in seriating those types. He does not propose a formal hydration rate or present age brackets. McGuire et al. (2004: 71) do propose a hydration rate, based on materials recovered from Pie Creek Shelter, using solid associations with radiocarbon dates. Unfortunately, the shelter context apparently results in a lower effective hydration temperature than at open-air sites, because the resulting rate does not compare well with those obtained from the current study, or with the corresponding averages for the projectile points presented in Hockett’s (1995) study. Thus, we develop our own hydration brackets for this study, based on midpoint ages for a large sample of projectile points.

As with Paradise Valley, this study includes a number of additional points from sites throughout the region, provided by William Fawcett (personal commun., 2011). This allows us to employ a robust sample of 225 points (see table 20). These have measurement ranges that are in substantial agreement with the smaller samples listed by Hockett (1995), with the exception of Great Basin Stemmed points, which have much lower measurements on average (10.4 μm) than the measurements that Hockett reports on two specimens (14.0 and 15.0 μm). Table 21 shows the resulting brackets, which indicate that Browns Bench is the fastest hydrating of any of the sources studied here.

Obsidian Hydration Summary

The hydration brackets for the eight major obsidian sources are shown in table 21. As the table shows, there are substantial differences in hydration rates among these sources, ranging from Craine Creek at the slow end to Browns Bench at the fast end. Some of this variability can be ascribed to climatic/temperature differences among the regions in which these obsidians are typically found, but much of it likely has to do with differences in their geochemistry.

It should be cautioned that these brackets are based primarily on regressions of hydration means against the midpoint ages of our time periods, and hence they are only as accurate as our understanding of those periods. Additionally, variation in these means is admittedly high, and there are many examples of individual typed points whose hydration measurements lie outside the bracket for their assigned time period. In particular, average hydration measurements for Gatecliff and Humboldt series points often lie well away from the regression lines used to develop these brackets, suggesting that these types have rather less temporal sensitivity than others. However, the overall success of the approach lends credence both to the typological/temporal scheme in use here for projectile points, and to the validity of obsidian hydration as a tool for general temporal assignment, if not direct chronometric dating.

Building Spatiotemporal Components

Where possible, we use diagnostic artifacts, radiocarbon, and obsidian hydration together to place sites, or parts of sites, into discrete spatiotemporal components. These components can range from single features or flaked stone reduction events, to large occupation areas, but each is identifiable to a specific period and each represents a discrete episode of prehistoric land use. Larger sites may contain multiple components, even multiple components dating to the same time period, if they are judged to be functionally unrelated. Smaller, more briefly occupied sites may in fact be more amenable to component-building than larger, more continuously occupied sites, because they are more likely to provide an unmixed picture of a given time period.

Obsidian hydration is the most common basis on which our components are built. This presents challenges because of its relatively poor temporal resolution. Sites that appear on other evidence to have been very briefly occupied can often show a wide range of hydration readings. To account for this, we calculate the coefficient of variation (i.e., the standard deviation divided by the mean) for each source-specific group of readings, with outliers excluded. We use a threshold value of 0.25 to identify potential single components; values above this are considered to represent a mixed deposit.

Table 22 presents the counts of identified components by time period and region. There are 399 components in all. Several components in the Upper Humboldt Plains region are more loosely defined than most, spanning time period boundaries.

For interpretive purposes, each of these components is also assigned to type, according to its assemblage and its association with features. Flaked stone components, as the name implies, contain flaked stone tools and/or debitage only, and reflect brief occupations by hunting parties, with on-site activities limited to retooling or butchering of game. Flaked stone-dominated components are typed as quarries when raw material procurement is a primary on-site activity. Simple habitation components contain ground stone tools and/or pottery in addition to flaked stone, indicating a wider range of subsistence activities, including plant-food processing. Complex habitations also contain thermal features and/or the remains of residential structures, indicating intensive occupation and an accompanying complete suite of subsistence activities. A small number of habitation components also contain evidence of quarrying activity, and the component type is modified accordingly. A few components consist of isolated thermal features, or thermal features in association with a small flaked stone assemblage, and these are typed as feature only and flaked stone with feature respectively. The four large pronghorn traps in the Thousand Springs Valley zone make up the final type.

Some feature types, including the petroglyphs, rock alignments, and rock emplacements common in the Barrel Springs area (see chap. 6), do not play a part in the component typology because they were rarely found in clear association with an assemblage of artifacts whose components had been reliably dated during our field investigations, and because they lack an independent means of dating.

CHAPTER 6: HIGH ROCK COUNTRY SUMMARY OF FINDINGS

Allika Ruby

The High Rock Country comprises the westernmost 84 miles of the study corridor in Nevada, extending eastward from the Oregon border to roughly Leonard Creek, a western tributary of the Quinn River (fig. 25). This region mostly consists of dissected lava plains and rocky uplands above 5000 ft that are dominated by sagebrush-steppe communities. The corridor winds across three subzones within the High Rock Country. Barrel Springs consists of some 16 miles of volcanic rimrock and tablelands extending from Oregon to the eastern edge of Mosquito Valley north of Mosquito Rim. From here, the corridor descends southward about 17 miles into Long Valley, onto the former bed of Pleistocene Lake Meinzer, and turns east roughly at Painted Point. It then continues eastward some 51 miles across the volcanic Black Rock Range. The corridor passes adjacent to several dry lakes in Long Valley, including Alkali and Mosquito lakes, and springs and seeps occur throughout the High Rock Country. This region also contains multiple obsidian sources, the most extensive of which, Nut Mountain and Massacre Lake/Guano Valley (as well as Craine Creek), lie along the route in the Black Rock Range. A more minor source, Surveyor Spring, is located along the corridor in the northwestern portion of Barrel Springs.

Fig. 25. High Rock Country.

In total, 326 prehistoric sites were subject to some level of data recovery treatment. Some 473 m3 were hand excavated, entailing 356 control units, 854 surface scrapes, three rapid-recovery units, and 1651 shovel probes; additionally, 278 surface collection units were used (table 23).

The greatest density of sites lies within the Barrel Springs subzone. Some 76 sites were recorded across 789 acres, or approximately 96 sites per 1000 acres. The Black Rock Range subzone contains the greatest number of sites, with 234 across 2839 acres, or 82 per 1000 acres. The Long Valley subzone contains the fewest sites, with only 16 encountered during survey of 1057 acres, or 15 per 1000 acres.

Chronological Overview

Of the 326 treated prehistoric sites, 188 yielded chronometric data sufficient for component definition, while the remaining 138 sites either lacked such information or contained evidence for overlapping occupations spanning more than one prehistoric era. In all, 245 components are present at these 188 sites, consisting of 153 sites with single components and 35 with two or more components.

Table 24 presents a summary of chronological data for High Rock Country sites. All prehistoric eras are well represented in the High Rock Country, unlike other regions in the project area where evidence for early occupations predating the Post-Mazama interval is minimal or absent. Nearly all of the Paleoindian components were found in the Black Rock Range portion of the High Rock Country zone.

Time-adjusted site occupations (components) in the High Rock Country increase consistently through time until the Middle Archaic Period. Occupations during the Paleoindian, Paleoarchaic, and Post-Mazama periods demonstrate a fairly steady progression upward, but jump markedly during the Early Archaic Period by a factor of 3.4. During the subsequent Middle Archaic Period, occupations increase only marginally, from 34.2 occupations per 1000 years in the Early Archaic to 38.8. After the Middle Archaic Period, however, the number of dated components drops, with 27.1 in the Late Archaic Period and only 6.0 during the Terminal Prehistoric—the lowest in terms of both raw and time-adjusted frequencies in the entire project corridor.

The sharp increase in Early Archaic Period components is seen elsewhere across the project area as well (see discussion in chaps. 7 and 8) and may be a response to improved climatic conditions at the end of the middle Holocene. The steep decline in Terminal Prehistoric occupations, however, is not mirrored in the other regions. It is not entirely clear whether these data indicate a depopulation of the High Rock Country or if Terminal Prehistoric components are present but have been masked through mixing with older materials from previous occupations.

Additional proxies of land-use intensity are provided by the frequencies of time-sensitive projectile points and obsidian hydration rim values for each period, standardized by time (table 24). With some variation, both data sets track reasonably well with the component profile, with marked increases in activity in the Early Archaic and sharp decreases in the Terminal Prehistoric Period. Whereas the component frequencies peak in the Middle Archaic Period, the standardized frequencies for both projectile points and obsidian hydration rim values peak slightly later, during the Late Archaic Period.

In total, 33 radiocarbon dates were derived from 26 contexts within High Rock Country sites (see table 17). Consistent with the projectile point and component data, the dates include the earliest recovered during the project. Excepting the Paleoindian Period, all prehistoric eras are represented in the radiocarbon data. After omitting seven redundant dates, most (N = 10) fall within the Middle Archaic Period, followed by the Terminal Prehistoric (N = 6), Late Archaic (N = 5), Early Archaic and Paleoarchaic (two each), and Post-Mazama (N = 1). Half (N = 13) of the dates are derived from features generally containing quantities of fire-affected rock. Of these, only five (38%) postdate the Middle Archaic Period. These results contrast with the other regions, where radiocarbon-dated thermal features are more prevalent in Late Archaic and Terminal Prehistoric contexts (see chap. 8). Notable is a radiocarbon date from site 26HU5105, located just below the high stand of pluvial Lake Parman at Fivemile Flat. Excavations here revealed a living floor that was radiocarbon dated to 11,180 cal b.p., the oldest such feature reported in this region.

Assemblage and Feature Overview

In total, 245 spatiotemporal components are documented in the High Rock Country (table 23; see also table 22). The Black Rock Range contains nearly 80% (N = 195) of the region’s dated components, while Barrel Springs has 34 (14%) and Long Valley has 16 (7%). In the westernmost areas, Late Archaic Period and Terminal Prehistoric components are either absent (Long Valley) or nearly so (Barrel Springs). They are both present in the Black Rock Range, however.

The most striking pattern is the dominance of flaked stone scatters throughout all eras (table 25). Altogether, this type represents more than half (N = 152) of all the dated components. Many of these flaked stone scatters represent quarrying events associated with one of the four obsidian sources located within the project corridor.

The number of habitation sites in the High Rock Country is low for all time periods, accounting for only 13% of all sites. Perhaps the most relevant measure is the ratio of flaked stone scatters and quarries to habitation components, the latter including both simple and complex habitation sites, as well as sites containing features. The ratio of habitation sites is highest for the Middle Archaic Period (20%), while it ranges between 9% and 11% for the Paleoarchaic, Post-Mazama, Early Archaic, and Late Archaic periods. The increases in land-use intensity previously identified for the Middle Archaic Period appear to have been tied to greater habitation activity.

Features

Rock accumulations make up the most common feature type in the High Rock Country sites (see table 23). These comprise large, clearly defined alignments such as house rings and hunting blinds (N = 25), as well as subtle emplacements of one or a few basalt rocks (N = 106). With the exception of three features in the Black Rock Range subzone, all these features are located in the basalt tablelands of the Barrel Springs subzone.

The 25 larger rock features include nine large rock rings at site 26WA8617, interpreted as the bases of dwellings; all except one are located in the dense but temporally mixed deposit at Locus C of that site. An additional eight features are semicircular alignments interpreted as hunting blinds; four of these are also at site 26WA8617, while two other possible blinds are located at site 26WA8628, and another is nearby at site 26WA8633. The one hunting blind outside the Barrel Springs area is in the Black Rock Range subzone, at site 26HU4989. Finally, eight small circular alignments/cleared areas at site 26WA8617 are interpreted as possible caches. Of these 25 features, only one could be clearly associated with a dated component: the single rock ring at 26WA8617 Locus A, dated to the Middle Archaic period.

The remaining 106 rock features are much more subtle emplacements of one or a few rocks placed on a base boulder. All except two of these features are found in the Barrel Springs subzone, where they are widespread on the landscape. (Many additional such features were recorded as isolates during archaeological surveys for the pipeline.) These can be difficult to distinguish from natural, noncultural phenomena (e.g., resulting from frost wedging or exfoliation) that commonly occur across exposed basalt surfaces (see Hildebrandt et al., 2014, for discussion). However, the use of these features by nearby ethnographic groups to the northwest is well documented, and many are likely to be the result of intentional human placement. Such features were reportedly built during religious activities geared toward obtaining power, as well as wisdom, to help overcome periods of grief and hardship encountered during one’s life; they were also associated with boys’ puberty rites. These features may demonstrate cultural affinity with south-central Oregon and Modoc Plateau groups. While these features are widespread in the Barrel Springs subzone, none were unequivocally associated with a dated artifact assemblage. The distribution of the rock emplacements does not correlate strongly with that of artifact scatters, suggesting that they are functionally unrelated, and that apparent associations between them are fortuitous.

The next most common feature type in the High Rock region comprises hearths, concentrations of charcoal-stained sediments, and clusters of fire-affected rock. In all, 25 such thermal features are located in the Black Rock Range subzone (eight sites) and Long Valley subzone (two sites); none are present at Barrel Springs sites. Two sites, 26HU5728 and 26WA8766, are notable for containing relatively large numbers of these features. Site 26WA8766 contains eight such features, of which two were radiocarbon dated to the Middle Archaic Period and one to the Terminal Prehistoric. Site 26HU5728 contains nine of these features, three of which were radiocarbon dated; two dated to the Middle Archaic and one to the Late Archaic. None of the thermal features excavated in the High Rock Country contained much in the way of cultural material.

Three of the sites (26WA8617, 26WA8864, and 26WA9110) contain petroglyphs, all of them in the Barrel Springs subzone (four other sites in the Barrel Springs area also contain petroglyphs, but were avoided entirely during construction and are not reported here). The rock art motifs are generally indistinct abstract forms pecked onto varnished basalt outcrops. Marked repatination on some of the elements indicate that they likely predate the Terminal Prehistoric Period, when Numic groups are thought to have entered the region, although a possible horse and rider element was recorded at one site. Few of the petroglyphs could be clearly associated with a dated component assemblage; however, the rock art elements at site 26WA8864 do appear to be associated with its Middle Archaic artifact assemblage.

Three milling slicks are present at site 26WA8617, in association with the rock art panels, rock rings, and other features at Locus C of that site.

Finally, and most notably, the oldest radiocarbon date on a living surface ever recorded in the Great Basin was documented at 26HU5105. This feature, dated to 11,180 cal b.p., consists of a compacted, circular fill zone approximately 10 cm thick and 4 m in diameter. The occupants of this Paleoarchaic site may have been drawn to the wetlands that likely flourished in the area as Lake Parman began its retreat sometime after 15,000 years ago.

Assemblages

A comparison of artifact types demonstrates that Middle Archaic Period groups in the High Rock region were more dependent on plant procurement and processing than were earlier occupants (table 26). The ratio of ground and battered stone (milling stones, hand stones, pestles, battered cobbles, and miscellaneous ground stone) to flaked stone tools (projectile points, bifaces, drills, formed flake tools, and simple flake tools) reached a peak of 1:13 during the Middle Archaic Period. Ground stone tools were also more common during the Early Archaic Period, with a ratio of 1:17. The Post-Mazama and Paleoarchaic period components contain only trace amounts of ground stone, as reflected by ratios of 1:51 and 1:210, respectively. Ground stone is absent from Late Archaic and Terminal Prehistoric sites, which is a surprising finding given their abundance elsewhere along the project corridor.

Several pestles recovered from Barrel Springs sites are unique to that area; these items have wide, nearly flat ends indicative of use on flat or nearly flat base rock and were used for both grinding and pounding; they display hand stone use as well. Their ends are typically irregular in shape. Starch-grain analyses conducted on three of the items were inconclusive, although two yielded grains consistent with biscuit-root and grass, possibly from maize (a likely contaminant). Also unique to Barrel Springs are bowl mortars. Five of these items were recovered from sites and one was collected from an isolated location. The five from site contexts were recovered from the Middle Archaic Period components of three habitation sites (26WA8617, 26WA8621, and 26WA8628).

The four crescents recovered during the project were all found in the High Rock Country. Two were at a single site in Long Valley (26WA8766) that overlooks the overflow drainage from Massacre Basin, and one was in Barrel Springs (26WA8730). The other was collected as an isolated artifact in the Black Rock Range. Two are obsidian, one each from the Surveyor Spring and possible Unknown A sources, whereas two are cryptocrystalline silicate (CCS) material.

Flake tools are uncommonly abundant in the High Rock Country (see table 26), with some 402 simple flake tools collected per 1000 acres. By contrast, the Upper Humboldt Plains (19 per 1000 acres), Upper Lahontan Basin (9 per 1000 acres), and Thousand Springs Valley (7 per 1000 acres) regions show much lower densities. The trend is particularly striking in Barrel Springs, where the density of collected simple flake tools reaches 2054 per 1000 acres. The high density of flake tools may relate to the manufacture and maintenance of digging sticks for the harvesting of epos (yampah), which is abundant at Barrel Springs (see chap. 13). Long Valley (45 per 1000 acres) and the Black Rock Range (54 per 1000 acres), have much lower densities, although they are still high relative to the other project regions. Similar to other tool types within the High Rock Country region, most of the formed and simple flake tools associated with dated components fall within the Middle Archaic Period (58% and 91%, respectively).

Obsidian is the dominant flaked tool stone represented in High Rock Country sites, accounting for 94% of the collected assemblage (table 27). CCS accounts for another 4%, while other materials (e.g., basalt, rhyolite) make up the remaining 2% of the assemblage. In total, some 32 distinct sources are represented in the analyzed assemblage of obsidian tools and debitage (table 28). Of the 6228 sourced items, nearly 40% are Massacre Lake/Guano Valley obsidian, 17% are Craine Creek, and 13% are Nut Mountain. Other local sources present in significant quantities include Mosquito Lake (8%), Bidwell Mountain (7%), Surveyor Spring (3%), and Long Valley (2%). Materials from nonlocal sources are rare and derived from western sources such as the Bordwell Group (Bordwell Spring/Pinto Peak/Fox Mountain), Double H, Sugar Hill, and Hawks Valley. Eastern sources, such as Browns Bench and Ferguson Wash, are absent.

With respect to source representation through time, Mosquito Lake, Craine Creek, and Bidwell Mountain obsidian use peaked during the Middle Archaic Period, dropped off sharply during the ensuing Late Archaic Period, and apparently ended by the Terminal Prehistoric. Massacre Lake/Guano Valley obsidian, however, maintained its high levels through the Late Archaic Period, before dropping off during the Terminal Prehistoric Period. The Nut Mountain obsidian materials demonstrate a peak in use during the Early Archaic but then a sharp drop during the ensuing Middle and Late Archaic periods.

In total, 2889 faunal bone elements and fragments were recovered from 39 sites within High Rock Country (table 29). Of these, about 2000 bones and bone fragments are associated with 17 dated components. A significant amount of this bone is derived from the Middle Archaic component of site 26WA8748, which yielded some 1209 bones and bone fragments. The Middle Archaic component data are clearly the most robust, with some 1847 faunal bones, including the 1209 elements from 26WA8748.

Since half of the total assemblage is derived from a single period, it is difficult to analyze the findings at a regional scale. However, some general trends can be observed. Lagomorph-sized mammal remains are the most frequent, comprising more than half (51%) of the dated assemblage, whereas artiodactyl-sized mammal remains account for about 33%. A trace amount of bird remains (1%) was recovered, while fish remains are nearly absent.

Across the High Rock Country, 1100 charred seeds were recovered from 19 components, of which 896 could be identified to family, genus, or species (table 30). There were also eight fragments of nutshell, 21,917 grams of wood charcoal, and 269 miscellaneous remains (e.g., buds, roots). In all, 32 taxa are recognized. Seed counts and densities are greatest in the Middle Archaic components (N = 625, 109.8 seeds per liter), a finding that makes sense given the high relative frequencies of milling equipment from these contexts. Much lower seed frequencies were observed in Late Archaic and Terminal Prehistoric components, and only trace levels in Paleoarchaic and Early Archaic contexts.

Identifiable nutshell consists of four pinyon and one juniper, all but one of which were recovered from Middle Archaic components. Pinyon is not found in the High Rock Country and was mostly likely transported to the site over some distance. The most abundant seeds by count include blue-eyed Mary, goosefoot, tansey mustard, grass family, and saltbush. Goosefoot and blue-eyed Mary seeds have a long seed-ripening period, from early summer to late fall. Other notable taxa include bluegrass seeds, which are available in the late summer to early fall. Cattail seeds, indicating wetland use, were recovered from a single site (26HU4923) in the Black Rock Range.

Summary

The High Rock Country exhibits the longest record of human occupation along the project corridor, extending back to the Paleoindian era. Prior to the Early Archaic Period, however, population densities were low and grew only incrementally. Commencing in the Early Archaic, land-use intensity, as measured by the frequency of components standardized by time, ramped up, peaking during the Middle Archaic, and was sustained at high levels through the Late Archaic Period. This Middle Archaic peak was accompanied by a shift in settlement pose as reflected in an increase in habitation sites, as well as by increased use of milling equipment. Archaeobotanical assemblages dating to this time indicate a greater reliance on small seeds. There is also some evidence for the intensification of geophyte resources, particularly in the Barrel Springs area. But perhaps the most surprising result of this investigation is the lack of visibility of the Terminal Prehistoric record in the High Rock Country. This absence may reflect an actual decrease in land-use intensity at this time, or perhaps a shift to a Numic family-band settlement structure that left a more diffuse and less visible archaeological record.

The High Rock Country, however, is neither environmentally nor archaeologically homogeneous. The Black Rock Range to the east contains a high density of sites reflecting long-term quarry exploitation of the Massacre Lake/Guano Valley, Nut Mountain, and Craine Creek obsidian flows. Long Valley, in contrast, contains the lowest density of sites in the High Rock Country, with a relatively large proportion of habitation sites and lower overall quantities of hunting-related tools. The Barrel Springs area is marked by high site densities and a large numbers of plant processing and hunting tools, and may have served as a prime geophyte collection zone. There are also distinctive artifact and feature categories at Barrel Springs (such as bowl mortars and pestles, rock-stack features, and extremely high numbers of flake tools), many of which may reflect occupation or influence by Penutian groups from south-central Oregon and the Modoc Plateau.