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  1. #16
    us
    Mar 2004
    Severn, Maryland
    None
    908
    3195 times
    Cache Hunting
    Okay my brother and I were in the mountains south of Sierra Vista looking for where 3 drunks went into the mountains and came out with over 30 Oz. of gold. They thought that was normal. It was dark when they came in, 2 asleep and dark when they left, again 2 asleep and the driver is also Dyslexic. They never could find where they were. We were searching one valley off a canyon there and split up to cover more ground. Later as I came around a point, I saw my brother just on the other side of the next point. "There you are, I'll be right over". "Stay there!" I thought maybe he had come around on a ledge and it petered out. "I'll go above you and throw you a rope", as I had the backpack with the ropes in it.
    "No, Stay there!" "What's wrong?"(me) (him) "Snakes" Now we were carrying 6 shot .22 revolvers with a 2 inch barrel, less likely to catch in the brush and with CCI canister rounds, would do a 4 inch pattern from the waist to the ground. I figured he must have lost his gun, as I heard no shots. "I'll go above you and throw you mine" At which time he stuck his arm up in the air with his gun in it, "Stay there, too many to shoot!". He had jumped down on to a flat rock and surprised 8 rattle snakes sunning themselves on a southern slope in January. It had gotten to about 70 Degree in the sun. The Northern slope had 3 inches of snow on it. He said about that time the one the had coiled up and was shaking it's tail at him got tired and turned and went past him into the rocks. The other 7 joined him and my brother said he was "really busy" trying to keep track of them all as they went by him. Ah, the joys of hiking in the mountains going off trail. LOL Oh the drop off there was about 100-150 feet almost straight down.
    AARC and releventchair like this.

  2. #17
    Charter Member
    us
    "WP"

    May 2012
    12,357
    19206 times
    Alright AARC. I owe you a story/scrambled snapshot for buggin you.

    Jr. High school winter days when too much snow closed the schools ,a friends mother would drop us off wherever we chose on the condition we caught her some fish.
    We had the fish catching down and usually returned with a couple northern pike.

    A more often chosen site was a power generating facility who's turbines were water cooled and the hot tub temp discharge channel led to a river that did not freeze on it's(the discharge channels) side.

    Cigarettes were a whopping 35 cents a pack (clad) but a school associates dad drove truck and occasionally a couple bucks a carton made for a bargain.
    Once at the "hot water hole" and a couple fish scored there was still much to do.
    Smudge pots (metal pails with kerosene soaked rags as wicks to keep warm) were attended by some ,school mates and others. Some cordial socialization ,an occasional radio and hours of the day were filled.

    Ciggs could be bartered ,depending on traffic , for beer or fish or vice versa or combinations there of.

    I once snagged a tangle of mono line containing a heavy turquoise ring some one must have used for a desperate weight/sinker..or who knows.
    Wish I still had it.
    Must have bartered it or give it to some one.

    Then as now there was a war going on.
    Older teens were scarce and we seemed to fill in the gap and grew up faster with more responsibility for our actions.
    Got by on low budgets , and learned to network with a cross section of society by in person negotiation and mutual respect.

    Not sayin all we did was kosher , but accounted for ourselves without blaming others.
    Last edited by releventchair; May 04, 2016 at 07:52 PM.
    AARC likes this.

  3. #18

    Dec 2012
    MXT-PRO Sandshark
    12,733
    13059 times
    Metal Detecting
    anyone wanna hear about the time I beat bieber to a pulp, threw him in my trunk and dumped him back in Canada?

    wait, maybe that was a dream..
    AARC likes this.
    Iím the only one of me, baby thatís the fun of me.. / brendon urie

    DONíT TRUST WHITEY / Navin Johnson


    EVERYTHINGS GONNA BE ALRIGHT, EVERYTHINGS GONNA BE OK.
    ITS GONNA BE A GOOD GOOD LIFE, THATíS WHAT MY THERAPISTS SAY. / Bebe rexha


    IF YOUíRE LOST AND ALONE, OR YOUíRE SINKING LIKE A STONE, CARRY ON / Fun

  4. #19
    Charter Member
    us
    TerrysKnifeStore.com

    May 2010
    White Plains, New York
    Minelab GPZ 7000; Equinox 600 -- Teknetics EuroTek PRO -- Grave Digger Tools Nemesis shovel, Sidekick hand digger -- Bunk's Hermit Pick
    16,663
    22478 times
    Metal Detecting
    Honorable Mentions (1)
    “Lost and found.” - By Terry R. Soloman

    I had been doing some research to find new areas to metal detect when I discovered a field behind a local supermarket that was a park from 1925, to 1980. I decided to try and get to the field with my metal detector and see what I could find. When I pulled into the back of the store I didn’t see any other cars. I got myself together as quickly as I could and got on into the woods before somebody from the supermarket could tell me I was trespassing.

    Studying the site with old aerial photographs from the 1940s, and newer satellite imagery on Google Earth, did not prepare me for how difficult it would be to get through the heavy tangle of brush and thistles. I really had to fight my way through thorn bushes and brambles that caught my hat, pants, sleeves, and skin with almost every step.

    After a few minutes, some scratches and a lot of cussing, I finally made it to the clearing. I took a quick look around the large field, turned on my machine and dialed in my settings. I decided to start working my way to the far side of the field and turned around to start swinging my detector. Well, I almost jumped out of my skin!

    There was an older man using a metal detector not 100-feet away from me. His back was to me as he swept his coil back and forth, and I was pretty sure he hadn’t seen me either. When he got over to the other side of the field and turned around, I waved to try and get his attention. He either didn’t see me or, just decided not to acknowledge me.

    I shook it off and walked down to the east end of the field to give him plenty of room. I started finding some coins from the 1970s, and even a few silver coins from the 1950s and ‘40s. I had pretty much forgotten about the old man when I heard a voice ask, “Finding anything?”

    He was standing about 10-feet from me, with a pleasant smile and easy demeanor. I said, “A couple of silver dimes and a war nickel so far, how about you?” He told me he hadn’t found anything yet, but that he was really looking for his daughter’s lost wedding band. He seemed like a gentle fellow, probably about 70 or so, but in pretty good shape for his age. What struck me was his metal detector. It was an old Garrett machine from around 1975, and it looked brand new.

    He said his daughter had bought a house around the corner and was down here playing with her kids when she lost the ring. He explained how it had belonged to his now deceased wife before he had given it to his daughter. A sad look came over him as he said, “When I got it for my wife, I had it engraved with ‘R.I. Loves C.I.’ which is our initials. My Wife died before our Daughter got engaged, but it turns out the initials on the ring were perfect for Ray and Cindy, because his last name is Ingram, ours is Ivers, so I knew her Mother was looking down on her, and I wanted her to have it.”

    I told him I would give a holler if I beeped it. He touched the bill of his tweed cap, said he appreciated it, and started swinging back toward the other end of the field. After a moment, I had the thought I should ask him how to get back out to the parking lot without getting all scratched up. I turned around and started to take off my headphones to ask him, but he was gone.

    As I began swinging the coil of my machine over the grassy field again I got a signal almost immediately. “Zip-Zip!” The signal was strong and the tone was high and sweet. I turned 90-degrees to the target and swept it with the coil again. Zip-Zip! I dropped down on my knee and pulled out my digging tool, cutting a generous plug in the damp soil. As I folded the turf flap out of the hole I saw it immediately – a small gold ring! For a second or two I just knelt there looking at in the dirt.

    I did a little happy dance right there on my knees, and picked up the ring to clean it off. It was a plain gold wedding band marked 18K, and inscribed “R.I. Loves C.I.” A very strange feeling came over me. I was happy about finding the ring but, something about the old guy was still bothering me. I still couldn’t figure out how he had left the field so quickly.

    After finding the ring I decided to call it a day. I thought I would take a look around and see if I could find the path the old guy and his Daughter were using. After about 15-minutes of frustration I finally went back the way I came in, getting scratched up and bleeding like I had been in a fight with a herd of feral cats.

    That evening I cleaned up my finds and laid them out on the kitchen table to admire. I had done pretty well for myself detecting several old silver coins, about $2.00 in modern coins, and the gold wedding band. After dinner, my wife went through the phone book, and found a “R. Ingram,” on a street about a block from the supermarket. I called the number and got an answering machine, so I left my name and number and said I thought I had found their wedding band. Over the next week I left several more messages but got no response.

    I finally decided to drive by the address and see if there was anyone home. After picking up my Wife from work that afternoon, we drove over to the house. There were a couple of cars in the driveway and the lights were on inside, so we pulled up and parked. I rang the doorbell and an attractive woman in her 40’s answered the door. I asked, “Are you Cindy?” The woman looked surprised, and then angry! She said, “Are you the guy that keeps calling here about a lost wedding band?” I started to say yes, but she didn’t give me a chance.

    She stepped outside and closed the door behind her saying, “I don’t know what kind of scam you two are trying to pull on my Mother, but I’m here to tell you I’m going to have you arrested! You have caused a lot of pain in our family and I will not stand for it!” Both my Wife and I just kind of stood there with our mouths open in total shock. I finally said, “Hold on miss, I’m just trying to return a wedding band I found over behind the supermarket. I don’t want anything from your Mother.” The woman angrily asked, “What makes you think it belongs to my Mother?” At that point I was pretty sure this had been a huge mistake.

    “Look, I apologize,” I said. “I met this old gentleman, a Mr. Ivers I think. He was metal detecting over behind the supermarket, and he told me his Daughter had lost her wedding band over there while she was playing with her children. Obviously I have made a mistake.” The woman looked confused, almost dazed. My Wife asked her if she was alright.

    “Can I see the ring please,” she asked softly. I took the ring out of my pocket and gave it to her. As she looked at it she began to cry. My Wife put her hand on her shoulder and again asked her if she was alright. The woman was weeping now. A man came out of the house and asked her what was wrong. She put the ring in his hand and said, “He found Mom’s wedding ring.”

    The woman looked at me and said, “What did the man in the park look like? What did he say?” I had a bad feeling about the whole situation and said, “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but if that’s your Mother’s ring then just keep it. I don’t want anything from you.” I took my wife’s hand and started for the car when the woman said, “I’m sorry, please, wait!”

    “My Mom lost that ring in 1975. I was seven, and he was nine,” she said, pointing to the man on the porch who was still examining the ring. “We were throwing my Brother’s new football around and she lost her ring somehow. She was heartbroken because it had belonged to her Mother before her.” My Wife was out of the car now with her arm around the teary woman’s shoulder. I said, “So who is Mr. Ivers, the guy that told me about the ring at the old park?” The woman began crying uncontrollably again.

    My wife was trying to comfort her, offering a tissue from her pocketbook. I hadn’t noticed the man walking over to the car until he took his Sister’s hand. “Mr. Ivers was our Grandfather,” he said in a soft, gentle voice. Hugging his Sister he continued, “Pop-pop had a heart attack and died in that park 36-years ago. He was looking for Mom’s ring with his new metal detector.” My legs suddenly became rubbery and I sat down on the curb, stunned.

    It had been almost eight-months since my encounter with Mr. Ivers, and today we were guests at his Great Granddaughter’s wedding. We stood as “Here Comes the Bride” flowed joyously from the organ and filled the small church with music. A ray of sunshine came through the stained glass windows, illuminating the gold band the Bride wore on a delicate chain around her neck. I smiled as I caught sight of him standing at the back of the church. He smiled back at me, tipped his tweed cap then disappeared.

  5. #20
    us
    Feb 2016
    NJ
    Tesoro Compadre
    149
    282 times
    All Types Of Treasure Hunting
    Quote Originally Posted by Terry Soloman View Post
    “Lost and found.” - By Terry R. Soloman

    I had been doing some research to find new areas to metal detect when I discovered a field behind a local supermarket....
    That was really well written. Nicely done!
    AARC and Terry Soloman like this.
    Fiat Vox!

  6. #21
    us
    Feb 2016
    NJ
    Tesoro Compadre
    149
    282 times
    All Types Of Treasure Hunting
    BANAMBIEN BREAD

    .

    A couple of years ago I suffered a boxing injury, but like a Real Man (read: "idiot") I chose to ignore it and keep going. Until last January when the pain was bad enough that I quit both boxing and lifting in the hopes things would mend on their own and I'd get back into it again this year.

    Lo and behold, my home remedy failed. I finally had to suck it up and grudgingly concede to medical care. So two weeks ago I went to the doctor, had an MRI, was given a prescription for some stomach-dissolving nuclear anti-inflammatory and 6 weeks of physical therapy, and an appointment for a steroid injection or three.

    And Ambien, so I could fall asleep without screaming in pain.

    Have you ever taken Ambien?

    It's GREAT.

    Seriously, I can see why Tiger Woods was hooked on that stuff. And hookers.

    If you haven't ever taken one, the best thing about it - aside from the ability to fall asleep without screaming in pain - is that if you don't go to bed right away after having taken one you do all sorts of things without knowing it, then have absolutely no memory of it the next day. It's GREAT! You can do anything you want, no matter how stupid, and blame it on a necessary medical treatment. Talk about a free pass.

    (I remember when I heard the term "Ambien eating" in the news a few years ago and thought it couldn't be true...until last week when I woke up one morning with the very, very scant remains of what was, the night before, a whole strawberry cheesecake scattered on the pillow next to me.)

    So that all leads me to this morning. I got up, rolled out of bed, fed the corgi, and opened the fridge to get my breakfast cup of heavy cream.

    On the bottom shelf of the fridge was a mixing bowl with what looked like 3 pounds of Spackle in it.

    "Hey honey, what's that goop in the mixing bowl?"


    "You've got to be KIDDING!" Wifey immediately ran to the kitchen. "You don't remember making that last night?"

    "Er...no. What is it?"

    She rolled her eyes. "Oh for gods sake. You took your stupid Ambien and sat down to watch a 'Penguins of Madagascar' cartoon -"

    "Which one? Was it 'Popcorn Panic'?"

    "I have no earthly idea. All I know is I tried to get you to bed and you said you were fine and you just wanted to see one cartoon and then you'd hit the sack. But when you went to the kitchen for a glass of water you saw two bananas turning black on the counter and you said 'you know, I think I'll make banana bread!' and you got out all these ingredients and spent the next half hour mixing them all in a bowl and then you put it in the fridge. THAT'S what 'that goop' is."

    "So...it's bread dough?"

    "That's what you said."

    "Is it a yeast bread? Does it look like a bigger blob than what I put in last night?"


    "How would I know? I do construction, not baking." (That's true. Wifey, child of a blue collar butt-crack displayer, can install plumbing to code and put up wallboard faster than I can make an Alfredo sauce.)

    I was left scratching my head. What the hell had I made? At least I knew it had bananas in it, so that helped. But did it have yeast in it? It looked and smelled like it did, and when I pushed down lightly if deflated. So that answered that. Might as well cook it.

    My first inclination was just to toss it in Jasmine Sous, my magical mystery fuzzy logic rice cooker. I've made bread in her before, several times. But I'd planned to make a batch of congee in her that morning, so I went with oven. I pushed the dough down further to let it rise a second time while things heated up. And it did rise, somewhat to my surprise.

    I portioned the dough between 4 mini-loaves, mixing chopped walnuts into 2 of them. Into the oven they went, and a half hour later out of the oven they came. A half hour after that we sat down to warm banana breakfast loaves.

    "These are disgusting" Wifey said.

    I bit into one.

    "Well, ok, they're not exactly traditional. But I wouldn't call them 'disgusting'."


    "They're disgusting. It's like eating a loaf of Wonder Bread with bits of banana mashed into it. It's not sweet at all!"

    She was right about that. Apparently I'd added enough sugar - if I added any at all, come to think of it - for the yeast to eat, and no more. In my stupor I'd neglected to realize that banana bread needs additional sweetening. Or it will taste like Wonder Bread with bits of banana mashed into it.

    On the upside, it was very well made Wonder Bread with bits of banana mashed into it. I could tell from the crumb and taste that I'd gone with my stand-by American sandwich loaf, which adds milk to the water, plus melted butter and honey.

    I think.

    Anyway, once I got over the shock of un-sweetened banana bread, I actually enjoyed it. I dragged out 7 or 8 of the Trappist jams still left over from last Christmas's haul and had fun trying various ones schmeared on, along with apple butter I made last month, and honey. They all went very well, if I do say so myself. Even left plain the bread matched well with tea (I thought) in the way that less sugary pastries often do.

    Of course, Wifey was having none of it. If it didn't taste like the sweet, dense, bakery standard non-yeast banana bread then it wasn't banana bread. And she wasn't gonna eat it.

    Fine with me. I'm always looking for more excuses to eat Trappist jam anyway.

    Well, it's about time for me to take another Ambien and get to bed. If I find anything interesting in the fridge when I wake up tomorrow I'll report back then.

    G'night!

    .

    .

    ** BONUS **

    Quick joke that nobody so far has liked:

    A priest, a rabbi, and a horse walk into a bar.
    The bartender looks up and says, "What is this, a joke?"
    Fiat Vox!

  7. #22
    Charter Member
    us
    "WP"

    May 2012
    12,357
    19206 times
    Well Sherpat...at least depression is not a side effect from the looks of your post.
    Could have been worse after watching penguins ,as in a fishy tasting bread,or whatever the one penguin coughed up for supplies.
    (bread, of sorts).
    AARC and Sherpat like this.

  8. #23
    us
    ARC

    Aug 2014
    Bahia Espiritu Santo de Tampa - La Florida
    JW 8X V.2 - ML X2 - VP 580
    19,653
    45901 times
    All Types Of Treasure Hunting
    "** BONUS **

    Quick joke that nobody so far has liked:

    A priest, a rabbi, and a horse walk into a bar.
    The bartender looks up and says, "What is this, a joke?" "***

    I actually laughed and liked it. :P So I guess I am the first to like it.
    Sherpat likes this.
    Have permission... Fill holes... Dispose of trash. - The Random Chat Thread - http://www.treasurenet.com/forums/ev...l-welcome.html

  9. #24
    us
    ARC

    Aug 2014
    Bahia Espiritu Santo de Tampa - La Florida
    JW 8X V.2 - ML X2 - VP 580
    19,653
    45901 times
    All Types Of Treasure Hunting
    Speakin of jokes...

    I have the best knock knock joke...

    Someone out there say "knock knock" ...
    Have permission... Fill holes... Dispose of trash. - The Random Chat Thread - http://www.treasurenet.com/forums/ev...l-welcome.html

  10. #25
    us
    Feb 2016
    NJ
    Tesoro Compadre
    149
    282 times
    All Types Of Treasure Hunting
    Quote Originally Posted by AARC View Post
    Speakin of jokes...

    I have the best knock knock joke...

    Someone out there say "knock knock" ...
    I have a feeling I'm gonna regret this, but -

    "Who's there?"

    (I have to get to bed now. I'll come back with a pained groan tomorrow when I read the punchline.)

    Fiat Vox!

  11. #26
    us
    Feb 2016
    NJ
    Tesoro Compadre
    149
    282 times
    All Types Of Treasure Hunting
    Quote Originally Posted by releventchair View Post
    Well Sherpat...at least depression is not a side effect from the looks of your post.
    Could have been worse after watching penguins ,as in a fishy tasting bread,or whatever the one penguin coughed up for supplies.
    (bread, of sorts).
    HA! You know Rico!!

    Yo da man
    Fiat Vox!

  12. #27
    us
    ARC

    Aug 2014
    Bahia Espiritu Santo de Tampa - La Florida
    JW 8X V.2 - ML X2 - VP 580
    19,653
    45901 times
    All Types Of Treasure Hunting
    Quote Originally Posted by Sherpat View Post
    I have a feeling I'm gonna regret this, but -

    "Who's there?"

    (I have to get to bed now. I'll come back with a pained groan tomorrow when I read the punchline.)

    You were supposed to say "knock knock"... not whos there...

    That WAS the punchline :P
    Have permission... Fill holes... Dispose of trash. - The Random Chat Thread - http://www.treasurenet.com/forums/ev...l-welcome.html

  13. #28
    Charter Member
    us
    "WP"

    May 2012
    12,357
    19206 times
    Rico ,yes.
    I don't remember their names(a denial thing perhaps).


    "Smile and wave boys ,just smile and wave".(Sarge?)

  14. #29
    us
    Feb 2016
    NJ
    Tesoro Compadre
    149
    282 times
    All Types Of Treasure Hunting
    Quote Originally Posted by AARC View Post
    You were supposed to say "knock knock"... not whos there...

    That WAS the punchline :P
    GAAAHHH!

    Just proves women aren't the only ones I can disappoint without even trying. Sorry.

    As way of apology:

    Two fish are in a tank. One says to the other, "You steer. I'll fire the gun."


    Thangu, thangu. Try the veal.
    Fiat Vox!

 

 
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