My fixation on a small, desolate locale in the heart of the Sahara Desert started with a single line buried in a 630-page tome in French about the rocks of the central Sahara: “Dent de Carcharodontosaurus saharicus Depéret,” which translates to “tooth of Carcharodontosaurus saharicus Depéret” – “Depéret” refers to the scientist who originally named the species.The intrepid French geologist Hugues Faure (1928-2003) had collected one saber-shaped tooth in the early 1950s at a small exposure he labeled “Akarazeras” on one of his maps, identifying the tooth as belonging to the T. rex-size predator Carcharodontosaurus. That beast was named years before based on fossils in the Western Desert of Egypt, and Faure correctly figured the tooth and outcrop in Niger might be the same age. Faure’s tooth, unfortunately, was never figured or photographed and has been lost.In the 70 years since Faure’s account, no paleontologist had ventured back to this hyperarid, windswept landscape to attempt to relocate Akarazeras. In truth, the tooth might have been all that was there, and the site itself could easily have disappeared under drifting dunes. Yet, after reading about it early in my career as a paleontologist, Akarazeras became my fossil Shangri-La, a place I dreamed of visiting.Akarazeras relocatedWith a small exploratory team in 2019, I followed a desert trail to the remote oasis of Tanout, the closest inhabited point to Akarazeras. There we refreshed our supplies – food, water and fuel – to survive a three-day foray in the open desert in search of the locale. Besides binoculars, we had a few gadgets Faure couldn’t have imagined: GPS hand units and a drone.AdvertisementAdvertisementNavigating using Faure’s map brought us to a flat, barren spot with nothing in sight to the horizon. We drove several kilometers to the north, climbed to the top of our vehicles and launched the drone. One of my team members spotted a low rocky outcrop at distance.Soon after arriving at the exposure, we found several Carcharodontosaurus teeth and, a short distance away, the rim of an infilled, hand-dug well. We had found Akarazeras. By the next afternoon, we had finished packing up a few dozen fossil teeth and bones. We probed in every direction and sent the drone farther to see if there was anything else to find. Nothing but sand.A chance encounterThat might have been the end of the story had not a tall, lanky man arrived in our Tanout campground the evening we returned. Looking like a Tuareg Marvel character, Abdoul Nasser stood next to his Honda motorbike, dressed in a full-length black overcoat, a cheche head wrap …
