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Thread: Bedrock and Gold: The mysteries . . .

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  1. #2506
    Charter Member

    Apr 2003
    Alberta
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    Quote Originally Posted by old digger View Post
    Sorry I'm late, but Happy belated Birthday! I've had a lot going on in the past couple months.
    I suspect that the snow is starting to fall in the higher elevations up there, but hopefully you can get out a few more times. Good Luck!
    Thanks for dropping in to say hello, and thanks for the birthday wishes as I appreciate it. The snow is in the upper elevations, and we had some lower down way earlier than usual, but it's all gone now. If I get another chance to chase any gold, I'll sure give it a go.

    Did you get a chance to chase any gold this season?

    All the best, and thanks again,

    Lanny
    Nothin' quite as fun as chasin' nugget gold! http://www.treasurenet.com/forums/me...mysteries.html

  2. #2507
    us
    Dennis

    Jan 2012
    Montana
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    Did you get a chance to chase any gold this season?


    Lanny[/QUOTE]

    No, I didn't, but I did get my two granddaughters (5 & 6) interested in detecting around in the yard. Now when they come over they ask if we can go ''treasure hunting''. One is wanting to hold the pinpointer and the other wants to hold the shovel. I have twice had to replace the batteries in the pinpointer because they seem to always have it on and ready use. And when ever we find a coin or something significant they run to the house and tell grandma ''We Found Some Treasure'', lol

    Thanks Again, Dennis

  3. #2508
    ca
    Honorary Member of the Central Alabama Artifact Society (C.A.A.S)

    Jan 2008
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    Quote Originally Posted by Lanny in AB View Post
    "Gold is a hard kept secret.

    The good, the bad, the strong and the weak all flock to the kind of warmth that gold gives off." Louis L'amour, Sackett

    All the best,

    Lanny
    Hello Lanny, good to have you back. It's been fairly normal temps over this way, continually trending down so far, and several light snowfalls. Jo and I figure we'll put in our backyard skating rink this coming weekend and hope for good ice for Christmas. Then we'll play lots of hockey with our children and grandchildren, lots of good fun. But this is not why I posted here. It was your Louis L'Amour reference to the Sacketts.

    I have most of his books and probably have read them all at one time or another. The series about the Sackett family exemplifies his creative authorship in traditional western settings. However I must say that generally I enjoy Zane Grey's western novels a bit more because, all else being about equal, there is more emphasis on romance. I guess I prefer happy romantic endings.

    We enjoyed your latest goldhunting contribution very much with thanks. I suppose the gold snob theme will resurface occasionally in your writings Lanny, because it is oh so true.

    Jim.
    Time, oh good, good time...where did you go?

  4. #2509
    Charter Member

    Apr 2003
    Alberta
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    Quote Originally Posted by old digger View Post
    Did you get a chance to chase any gold this season?


    Lanny
    No, I didn't, but I did get my two granddaughters (5 & 6) interested in detecting around in the yard. Now when they come over they ask if we can go ''treasure hunting''. One is wanting to hold the pinpointer and the other wants to hold the shovel. I have twice had to replace the batteries in the pinpointer because they seem to always have it on and ready use. And when ever we find a coin or something significant they run to the house and tell grandma ''We Found Some Treasure'', lol

    Thanks Again, Dennis[/QUOTE]

    That's so much fun when you get the youngsters out chasing treasure. I've done that many times with young ones, and it's a whole new world of discovery for them, truly, and they seem to love it so much.

    I'm glad you got a chance to get them hooked, now watch out as they might be chasing nuggets in your favourite spot soon!

    All the best,

    Lanny
    Nothin' quite as fun as chasin' nugget gold! http://www.treasurenet.com/forums/me...mysteries.html

  5. #2510
    Charter Member

    Apr 2003
    Alberta
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    Quote Originally Posted by Jim Hemmingway View Post
    Hello Lanny, good to have you back. It's been fairly normal temps over this way, continually trending down so far, and several light snowfalls. Jo and I figure we'll put in our backyard skating rink this coming weekend and hope for good ice for Christmas. Then we'll play lots of hockey with our children and grandchildren, lots of good fun. But this is not why I posted here. It was your Louis L'Amour reference to the Sacketts.

    I have most of his books and probably have read them all at one time or another. The series about the Sackett family exemplifies his creative authorship in traditional western settings. However I must say that generally I enjoy Zane Grey's western novels a bit more because, all else being about equal, there is more emphasis on romance. I guess I prefer happy romantic endings.

    We enjoyed your latest goldhunting contribution very much with thanks. I suppose the gold snob theme will resurface occasionally in your writings Lanny, because it is oh so true.

    Jim.
    Jim,

    It's good to be back, and I'll try to hammer out some of the stories about how I retrieved some nice, sassy gold this summer. I really had a lot of fun and had good finds.

    I've read Louis' books more than once, and I enjoy his stories when his western men are out chasing the gold. Louis has some pretty good insight about the process as I believe he spent a little time chasing the gold himself.

    Have fun on the rink! We always get out for some good pond hockey when it gets cold enough, but right now the warm winds are still a blowin' and things just aren't freezing up enough yet.

    Thanks for stopping in, and I hope you had a productive summer chasing the silver.

    All the best,

    Lanny
    Nothin' quite as fun as chasin' nugget gold! http://www.treasurenet.com/forums/me...mysteries.html

  6. #2511
    Charter Member

    Apr 2003
    Alberta
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    Warning! Annual Christmas Poetry

    The Tale of Bookish Hank

    There was a fellow name of Hank
    Whose father owned an eastern bank.
    But Hank detested bookish chores
    And yearned to see the great outdoors.

    So off he fled to seek his fame
    Where mountains blue called out his name
    To mine some gold a way out west.
    But findin’ gold’s a rugged quest,

    For Nature hides her gold right well,
    As Hank or any soul will tell,
    But Hank determined he’d succeed
    To find the gold he’d sorely need.

    He chose a spot far from the rest
    Then sunk a shaft and did his best
    To hit the bedrock way down deep
    Where sassy nuggets love to sleep.

    But boulders huge, they barred his way
    And stopped that shaft producin’ pay.
    So Hank was feelin’ mighty blue
    And fretted some just what to do.

    His grub was low, his cash was shot
    With winter comin’ sure as not
    Those mountains blue would turn pure white
    And close the passes left and right.

    So off to town Hank went right quick
    To see if folks could help him stick.
    But what they had, they needed sore—
    That made Hank’s outlook mighty poor.

    Back to his claim he trudged that night,
    Downhearted true, a sorry sight.
    The great outdoors, he loved them so,
    But all they’d given Hank was woe.

    His thoughts fled swift to his dad’s bank,
    To keepin’ books. His heart, it sank.
    To add up sums would sentence him
    And make his life so mighty grim.

    He had to fight a better fight . . .
    And then it hit him, dynamite!!
    With some of that, he might prevail
    And blast those rocks that made him fail.

    But where to get it without cash?
    He had to think of something rash.
    Now, in the town, there was a mill
    For crushin’ ore freight-ed downhill

    That brand-new mill would need a plan.
    To do their books, they’d need a man
    To tally things, to work things out.
    Hank smiled, then gave a mighty shout!

    The mill hired Hank right on the spot.
    And with his wages, yes he bought
    A case of feisty dynamite,
    To blow those boulders left and right.

    On Christmas day he reached bedrock.
    With candle lit, he stared in shock
    At golden nuggets there below,
    A magic golden wonder show.

    Well, irony’s a fickle dame
    But she helped Hank out just the same;
    For keepin’ books was what saved him
    When things were lookin’ mighty grim.

    Merry Christmas everyone, and all the best in the new year too,

    Lanny
    Last edited by Lanny in AB; Dec 18, 2017 at 05:33 PM.
    Nothin' quite as fun as chasin' nugget gold! http://www.treasurenet.com/forums/me...mysteries.html

  7. #2512
    us
    Dennis

    Jan 2012
    Montana
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    Wishing your Christmas is joyous!
    Lanny in AB likes this.

  8. #2513
    ca
    Honorary Member of the Central Alabama Artifact Society (C.A.A.S)

    Jan 2008
    Canada
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    Thankyou Lanny, me and Prospector Jo sure do enjoy your writings. I was getting primed-up to ask you to post something soon, so this was a real treat. I don't suppose you would do an encore and consider posting just one more Christmas poem, maybe one from the past that we also enjoyed so much? Maybe one about ol' Santy Claus?

    Jim & Jo
    Time, oh good, good time...where did you go?

  9. #2514
    Charter Member
    us
    Make America Great Again!

    May 2010
    White Plains, New York
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    Merry Christmas Lanny!

  10. #2515
    Charter Member

    Apr 2003
    Alberta
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    Quote Originally Posted by old digger View Post
    Wishing your Christmas is joyous!
    Many thanks for the kind wishes, and all the best to you as well,

    Lanny
    Nothin' quite as fun as chasin' nugget gold! http://www.treasurenet.com/forums/me...mysteries.html

  11. #2516
    Charter Member

    Apr 2003
    Alberta
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    Quote Originally Posted by Jim Hemmingway View Post
    Thankyou Lanny, me and Prospector Jo sure do enjoy your writings. I was getting primed-up to ask you to post something soon, so this was a real treat. I don't suppose you would do an encore and consider posting just one more Christmas poem, maybe one from the past that we also enjoyed so much? Maybe one about ol' Santy Claus?

    Jim & Jo
    Thanks for the PM with the note, it was much appreciated, and thanks for your ongoing appreciation for the poetry as not everyone likes poetic expression, but I like to experiment with it from time to time. As far as an encore goes, I'll have to see. I've been extremely busy of late and that is why I haven't had a chance to crank out any volume of summer gold stories yet, but I'll see what I can do.

    As for reposting, that's pretty easy, so I'll see if I can find what you've requested.

    All the best,

    Lanny
    Jim Hemmingway likes this.
    Nothin' quite as fun as chasin' nugget gold! http://www.treasurenet.com/forums/me...mysteries.html

  12. #2517
    Charter Member

    Apr 2003
    Alberta
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    Hi Jim, here's what you requested, I believe . . . I had to go back quite a ways to find it.

    Warning, prospecting poetry!


    Old Santy Claus Came out One Night.

    The miner bent sat in his shack
    T’was Chrismas eve, the sky pitch black.
    A blizzard roared outside his place,
    A lonesome night for him to face.

    Still, up he gits to hang his sock,
    A nail he drives with played-out rock,
    And hangs that stockin’ up with care
    In hopes that Santy will be there.

    Why--ain’t no cookies--nor no milk,
    The finer things just ain’t his ilk.
    No puddin’ pie, nor Christmas cake
    The finer things ain’t his to make.

    His money’s gone; the claim don’t pay,
    The vein he chased has pinched away.
    Upon this ground he’s toiled his best
    Those four-score twenty years his test.

    The things that always easy were
    Just ain’t that way, not now, for sure.
    Yet up he gits and hangs his sock,
    He sez his prayers and winds the clock.

    The storm, she smacks that shack about
    But it’s built snug—the cold stays out.
    So, off he goes to sleepy land
    But comin' soon, a visit’s planned.

    It seems a grizzly’s wide-awake,
    He’s huntin’ hard for grub to take.
    Then up he sneaks upon that shack.
    (This ain’t no Santy with his pack!)

    He checks the door and finds ‘er stout
    It seems the miner’s locked him out.
    That ain’t no Christmas way to awe
    Twelve-hundred pounds of fur and claw!

    So, Mr. Bear he checks the place
    And sets himself a torrid pace.
    He’s had no lunch since early fall . . .
    He finds a weak spot in the wall--

    (The stacked up rocks where shack met hill
    That miner hid his mine with skill)--
    Then Griz, he rips some stones away
    And steps inside to eat and play.

    He’s in a room, but not the shack
    (This spot's fer grub and stores to pack)
    His nose tells him, “The food’s in here.”
    His stomach senses fun is near.

    He finds a ham just hangin’ there
    And chomps ‘er down without a care
    He even finds a jug to try
    He rips the cork, and drinks ‘er dry.

    He’s feelin’ rather light of head
    He staggers some, then off to bed.
    The world she turns from night to day
    The storm has purged itself away.

    On Christmas morn the miner wakes
    He checks his sock, his head he shakes.
    No gifts therein, he feels right poor.
    And hungry some, un-bars the door.

    The storage room ain’t lookin’ fine,
    A bruin’s there, he’s all supine. . .
    If Santy Claus left him this brute,
    Ol’ Santy thinks he’s mighty cute

    Fer’ layin’ out this nasty gift,
    That’s blockin’ up his minin’ drift!
    Now, what to do? Well, that’s the trick
    And thinkin’ thoughts he plans right quick

    To tippy-toe around that bear,
    And do it all with greatest care,
    Yet if he slipped, or sneezed, or stomped
    That miner’d get himself right chomped!

    Then all at once, a brand-new plan.
    He spies himself a blastin’ can.
    He twists some fuse and strikes a light,
    He’ll do this job, and do ‘er right.

    A lengthy roll toward the bear,
    Then thunder happens everywhere!
    Now Mr. Bear is wide-awake--
    An exit hole he sure does make.

    The bear he's gone, but that there blast
    Set things in motion mighty fast.
    The ground and hill began to quake.
    The living rock commenced to shake

    The portals’ timbered rotting wood.
    (His Christmas morn weren’t lookin’ good).
    “Aw Durn”, he cussed, “She’s gonna’ give.
    There ain’t much chance I'm gonna' live.

    But he was wrong. And when t'was done
    A Christmas gift that miner'd won.
    For near the portal, to its right
    He saw himself a golden sight.

    A vein of quartz all laced with gold
    His wondering eyes did there behold.
    And in his mind he knew this was
    His real gift from Santy Claus!

    All the best,

    Lanny

    P.S. Here's some background info on what inspired me to write this poem--there's a Charles Russell (legendary Western artist and author) connection, as I believe the story I'll refer to in my following notes is from one of his early collections:

    This poem is a compilation of several different experiences--the one where the bear broke into the trailer (through the window) of some mining buddies of mine and drank all of their canned beer--got hammered--and then tore through the door when he came to and wanted out.

    Another is an experience from a very old western tale I read where two prospectors are lost in a blizzard on Christmas Eve, and their pack horses stop in the trail, as they know there's a cabin just off the trail that their human companions can't see. So, the prospectors hole up in the cabin for the night, hang their stockings (a token Christmas celebration as they won't be making it to where the celebrations going on) and head off to sleep.

    Well, in the back of the cabin (the tumbled-down part) there's a griz a hibernating. The big fire they've built in the rock fireplace awakens him (and the smell of the bacon they'd fried), and pretty soon there's a big bear right in the main room licking up their leavings by the fire. Well, hot lead starts flying thick and fast, the bear becomes Christmas dinner, and after a feast, the boys decide to check out the fallen down part of the cabin where the griz was hibernating.

    It turns out that there's a bunk under the caved part of the roof on one side, with the skeleton of an old-timer in it--all dressed out in buckskins, a flint-lock rifle laying beside him--a true old-timer--one of the first. So, that gets them thinking, and they scour the ruined part of the cabin, find a hiding place, and there's a nice, fat poke of gold cached in it! (They gave the weight in the tale--it was most impressive, but I can't recall it right now.) So those two old boys got their visit from Santy Claus.
    Last edited by Lanny in AB; Dec 18, 2017 at 10:44 PM.
    Nothin' quite as fun as chasin' nugget gold! http://www.treasurenet.com/forums/me...mysteries.html

  13. #2518
    us
    Northern California

    Aug 2007
    Southern California
    XLT, GMT, 6000D Coinmaster
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    Thank you Lanny for both poems as they tell of so much chance playing in the lives of 'folks' as often it seems it is chance that guides our lives. But then how do we know that what guides our lives is that bit of light that comes to us each year as we celebrate Christ mas as maybe, by chance, it is truly that light that guides us through our lives if we just choose to follow it. Merry Christmas to you and your family as well as all the folks and families associated with TNET!.............63bkpkr
    Out searching w/GMT & friend under my arm

  14. #2519
    Charter Member

    Apr 2003
    Alberta
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    Quote Originally Posted by 63bkpkr View Post
    Thank you Lanny for both poems as they tell of so much chance playing in the lives of 'folks' as often it seems it is chance that guides our lives. But then how do we know that what guides our lives is that bit of light that comes to us each year as we celebrate Christ mas as maybe, by chance, it is truly that light that guides us through our lives if we just choose to follow it. Merry Christmas to you and your family as well as all the folks and families associated with TNET!.............63bkpkr
    Thanks so much for dropping in to leave such a kind note, and I too wonder as you have wondered . . .

    As for the Christmas season, I too hope it fills others with a desire to help and do good and to be grateful, indeed I do.

    All the best to you Herb, and a very Merry Christmas as well,

    Lanny
    Nothin' quite as fun as chasin' nugget gold! http://www.treasurenet.com/forums/me...mysteries.html

  15. #2520
    ca
    Honorary Member of the Central Alabama Artifact Society (C.A.A.S)

    Jan 2008
    Canada
    F-75, Infinium LS, MXT, GoldBug2, TDI Pro, 1280X Aquanaut, Garrett ProPointer
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    Banner Finds (1)
    Quote Originally Posted by Lanny in AB View Post
    Hi Jim, here's what you requested, I believe . . . I had to go back quite a ways to find it.

    Warning, prospecting poetry!


    Old Santy Claus Came out One Night.

    The miner bent sat in his shack
    T’was Chrismas eve, the sky pitch black.
    A blizzard roared outside his place,
    A lonesome night for him to face.

    Still, up he gits to hang his sock,
    A nail he drives with played-out rock,
    And hangs that stockin’ up with care
    In hopes that Santy will be there.

    Why--ain’t no cookies--nor no milk,
    The finer things just ain’t his ilk.
    No puddin’ pie, nor Christmas cake
    The finer things ain’t his to make.

    His money’s gone; the claim don’t pay,
    The vein he chased has pinched away.
    Upon this ground he’s toiled his best
    Those four-score twenty years his test.

    The things that always easy were
    Just ain’t that way, not now, for sure.
    Yet up he gits and hangs his sock,
    He sez his prayers and winds the clock.

    The storm, she smacks that shack about
    But it’s built snug–the cold stays out.
    So, off he goes to sleepy land
    But comin' soon, a visit’s planned.

    It seems a grizzly’s wide-awake,
    He’s huntin’ hard for grub to take.
    Then up he sneaks upon that shack.
    (This ain’t no Santy with his pack!)

    He checks the door and finds ‘er stout
    It seems the miner’s locked him out.
    That ain’t no Christmas way to awe
    Twelve-hundred pounds of fur and claw!

    So, Mr. Bear he checks the place
    And sets himself a torrid pace.
    He’s had no lunch since early fall . . .
    He finds a weak spot in the wall--

    (The stacked up rocks where shack met hill
    That miner hid his mine with skill)--
    Then Griz, he rips some stones away
    And steps inside to eat and play.

    He’s in a room, but not the shack
    (This spot's fer grub and stores to pack)
    His nose tells him, “The food’s in here.”
    His stomach senses fun is near.

    He finds a ham just hangin’ there
    And chomps ‘er down without a care
    He even finds a jug to try
    He rips the cork, and drinks ‘er dry.

    He’s feelin’ rather light of head
    He staggers some, then off to bed.
    The world she turns from night to day
    The storm has purged itself away.

    On Christmas morn the miner wakes
    He checks his sock, his head he shakes.
    No gifts therein, he feels right poor.
    And hungry some, un-bars the door.

    The storage room ain’t lookin’ fine,
    A bruin’s there, he’s all supine. . .
    If Santy Claus left him this brute,
    Ol’ Santy thinks he’s mighty cute

    Fer’ layin’ out this nasty gift,
    That’s blockin’ up his minin’ drift!
    Now, what to do? Well, that’s the trick
    And thinkin’ thoughts he plans right quick

    To tippy-toe around that bear,
    And do it all with greatest care,
    Yet if he slipped, or sneezed, or stomped
    That miner’d get himself right chomped!

    Then all at once, a brand-new plan.
    He spies himself a blastin’ can.
    He twists some fuse and strikes a light,
    He’ll do this job, and do ‘er right.

    A lengthy roll toward the bear,
    Then thunder happens everywhere!
    Now Mr. Bear is wide-awake--
    An exit hole he sure does make.

    The bear he's gone, but that there blast
    Set things in motion mighty fast.
    The ground and hill began to quake.
    The living rock commenced to shake

    The portals’ timbered rotting wood.
    (His Christmas morn weren’t lookin’ good).
    “Aw Durn”, he cussed, “She’s gonna’ give.
    There ain’t much chance I'm gonna' live.

    But he was wrong. And when t'was done
    A Christmas gift that miner'd won.
    For near the portal, to its right
    He saw himself a golden sight.

    A vein of quartz all laced with gold
    His wondering eyes did there behold.
    And in his mind he knew this was
    His real gift from Santy Claus!

    All the best,

    Lanny

    P.S. Here's some background info on what inspired me to write this poem--there's a Charles Russell (legendary Western artist and author) connection, as I believe the story I'll refer to in my following notes is from one of his early collections:

    This poem is a compilation of several different experiences--the one where the bear broke into the trailer (through the window) of some mining buddies of mine and drank all of their canned beer--got hammered--and then tore through the door when he came to and wanted out.

    Another is an experience from a very old western tale I read where two prospectors are lost in a blizzard on Christmas Eve, and their pack horses stop in the trail, as they know there's a cabin just off the trail that their human companions can't see. So, the prospectors hole up in the cabin for the night, hang their stockings (a token Christmas celebration as they won't be making it to where the celebrations going on) and head off to sleep.

    Well, in the back of the cabin (the tumbled-down part) there's a griz a hibernating. The big fire they've built in the rock fireplace awakens him (and the smell of the bacon they'd fried), and pretty soon there's a big bear right in the main room licking up their leavings by the fire. Well, hot lead starts flying thick and fast, the bear becomes Christmas dinner, and after a feast, the boys decide to check out the fallen down part of the cabin where the griz was hibernating.

    It turns out that there's a bunk under the caved part of the roof on one side, with the skeleton of an old-timer in it--all dressed out in buckskins, a flint-lock rifle laying beside him--a true old-timer--one of the first. So, that gets them thinking, and they scour the ruined part of the cabin, find a hiding place, and there's a nice, fat poke of gold cached in it! (They gave the weight in the tale--it was most impressive, but I can't recall it right now.) So those two old boys got their visit from Santy Claus.
    That was just grand Lanny, thankyou very much for all that you contribute to this forum. Merry Christmas and all the very best to you and the family in the forthcoming New Year.

    Jim & Jo
    Last edited by Jim Hemmingway; Dec 20, 2017 at 05:03 PM.
    ProspectorBill and Jeff95531 like this.
    Time, oh good, good time...where did you go?

 

 

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bedrock gold mining
,

can gold be found in sandstone

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gold found in sandstone

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gold in sandstone

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gold nuggets attached in a rock
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has anyone found gold in sandstone, california?
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sandstone gold
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thick clay on bedrock with gold

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what does bedrock look like in real life
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