bigscoop
Gold Member
- Jun 4, 2010
- 13,376
- 8,704
- Detector(s) used
- Older blue Excal with full mods, Equinox 800.
- Primary Interest:
- All Treasure Hunting
It was an, I don't know what? I had absolutely no idea what it was, or even if it was anything at all, but there it rest right before my eyes, right in the bottom of plug I had just turned over. At first glance it appeared to be made of brass, about two incheslong and one inch wide, sort of in the shapeof a fist with the middle finger extended. I remove it from the plug to take a closer look. Yep, that's what it is, I just got flipped off by my first recovery for the day. Go figure, no doubt it was a sign that I should just go home. Into the pouch it goes.
“So what are you thinking about when you're metal detecting?” Seemed a fair question, though largely dependent on where I'm metal detecting. For instance, I'm sure I could have avoided stepping on that jellyfish while hunting the beaches in Florida had I not been secretly eyeing all of those bikinis and thinking about that. People think there are no dangers in this hobby but they are wrong.
It was a work of abstract art, really. The blades of the lawn mower chopping and twisting that piece of aluminum can into something annoying and unique. If I can just find five of six more I could probably make a pretty kool mobile to hang from my living room ceiling. Could probably sell it at one of those art and crafting shows to some preppy for big bucks. Into the pouch it goes.
It was my first chain in quite some time, the length of folded together pulltabs not exactly what I had been hoping for but a chain all the same. Into the pouch it goes.
It always pays to keep your eyes scanning the ground in front of you, the eyes often detecting none metallic surface finds that the detector can miss, say something like a nice $20 bill. Today, while hunting a local park, I found a condom still in its sealed wrappings. Into the pouch it goes.
I love to water hunt, especially during those steamy days of summer, it's so refreshing and relaxing. Last year I was hunting a small county beach where the swarms of tiny bluegills proceeded to pluck every hair from my legs. That was fun. Perhaps in a few years I'll return to that lake again with flyrod in hand to even the score with a few of them? I had a black bear enter my tent once while camped on a secluded little lake in northern Michigan, I've since decided not to entertain evening the score with him.
God, how I love it, that sense of adventure that comes over you when you hit those open roads in route to a far away destination. And when you finally get there that same sense of adventure is only heightened by the endless miles of off-road trails and tiny two-tracks. Mike and I simply turn on the compass and we head straight into them, once only to discover that the on-board compass wasn't working properly. Funny how those trails and landscapes can take on an entirely different appearance as you attempt to trace your travels backwards.
Loons and elk, to hear them sing in the distance as you sit around the evening campfire is magical, to say the least, their echoing songs gentle and mesmerizing. However, unknowingly wading too close to a loon's nesting area presents an entirely different atmosphere, the damn things darting all about me under the water like a school of angry dolphins. I don't know, has a human ever been pecked to death by angry loons before?
“Do you ever find anything,” the curious gentleman asked? Just for kicks sometimes I just reply “no” without further elaboration. In those brief moments of silence following my vague reply you can see their wheels turning, the expression of their faces leaving them to question, why then, would anyone even bother? Of course I don't allow this to continue for too long for fear that one of them will breakout with a long explanation as to everything I'm doing wrong.
“Grave robber.” That's what the nice older lady politely called me as I was minding my own business while detecting a stretch of beach behind a bunch of high dollar condos. I simply smiled and asked her, “So how long have you been burying all those ex-husbands here?” Well she immediately swelled all up and really came up for air then, let me tell you, proceeded to call me disrespectful as she had been recently widowed, yet again. No kidding, this actually happened. So I told her, “Well don't worry, I won't tell the cops where you've been burying them if you don't.” Grave robber? She never did catch on.
On the flip side I've run into some really quick older gals on that same stretch of beach. For instance, one gal came up to me and she told where that she knew exactly where a $25'000 diamond ring had been lost. Said she'd tell me “exactly” where it was at if I'd promise to go look for it for her. Yes, I bit, and said, “OK.” She simply smiled, pointed to the center of ocean, and she said, “Out there.” I don't know who laughed harder, me or her. I ran into her from time to time on the beach on that beach after that day and she always waved to me with that well deserved winner's smile. She was a kool old gal and I miss her humor, quick wit, and our frequent exchanges. I have met many interesting and enjoyable people over years while pursuing this hobby.
Neat old stuff, that's what lies beyond those items of gold and silver, those secondary recoveries that, while not worth much, still keep the mystery and adventure alive and exciting. Even today, say just driving to a local park, I still get that same sense of adventure and mystery as I do during those more distant trips. Regardless where you go you just never know what you might uncover next or what event, however big or small, you might experience next. And the people you encounter the along the way, let's forget them as they can often quite a bit to adventure and the experience, often to the better, sometimes for the worse, but still providing memories to be recounted at a later day all the same.
Yesterday I was at the local library in search of future adventures, a couple of new books with the pages marked sitting on the nightstand next to my bed, a few more mysteries to be explored, perhaps a few more adventures to be taken? I can't wait to see how it all pans out!
“So what are you thinking about when you're metal detecting?” Seemed a fair question, though largely dependent on where I'm metal detecting. For instance, I'm sure I could have avoided stepping on that jellyfish while hunting the beaches in Florida had I not been secretly eyeing all of those bikinis and thinking about that. People think there are no dangers in this hobby but they are wrong.
It was a work of abstract art, really. The blades of the lawn mower chopping and twisting that piece of aluminum can into something annoying and unique. If I can just find five of six more I could probably make a pretty kool mobile to hang from my living room ceiling. Could probably sell it at one of those art and crafting shows to some preppy for big bucks. Into the pouch it goes.
It was my first chain in quite some time, the length of folded together pulltabs not exactly what I had been hoping for but a chain all the same. Into the pouch it goes.
It always pays to keep your eyes scanning the ground in front of you, the eyes often detecting none metallic surface finds that the detector can miss, say something like a nice $20 bill. Today, while hunting a local park, I found a condom still in its sealed wrappings. Into the pouch it goes.
I love to water hunt, especially during those steamy days of summer, it's so refreshing and relaxing. Last year I was hunting a small county beach where the swarms of tiny bluegills proceeded to pluck every hair from my legs. That was fun. Perhaps in a few years I'll return to that lake again with flyrod in hand to even the score with a few of them? I had a black bear enter my tent once while camped on a secluded little lake in northern Michigan, I've since decided not to entertain evening the score with him.
God, how I love it, that sense of adventure that comes over you when you hit those open roads in route to a far away destination. And when you finally get there that same sense of adventure is only heightened by the endless miles of off-road trails and tiny two-tracks. Mike and I simply turn on the compass and we head straight into them, once only to discover that the on-board compass wasn't working properly. Funny how those trails and landscapes can take on an entirely different appearance as you attempt to trace your travels backwards.
Loons and elk, to hear them sing in the distance as you sit around the evening campfire is magical, to say the least, their echoing songs gentle and mesmerizing. However, unknowingly wading too close to a loon's nesting area presents an entirely different atmosphere, the damn things darting all about me under the water like a school of angry dolphins. I don't know, has a human ever been pecked to death by angry loons before?
“Do you ever find anything,” the curious gentleman asked? Just for kicks sometimes I just reply “no” without further elaboration. In those brief moments of silence following my vague reply you can see their wheels turning, the expression of their faces leaving them to question, why then, would anyone even bother? Of course I don't allow this to continue for too long for fear that one of them will breakout with a long explanation as to everything I'm doing wrong.
“Grave robber.” That's what the nice older lady politely called me as I was minding my own business while detecting a stretch of beach behind a bunch of high dollar condos. I simply smiled and asked her, “So how long have you been burying all those ex-husbands here?” Well she immediately swelled all up and really came up for air then, let me tell you, proceeded to call me disrespectful as she had been recently widowed, yet again. No kidding, this actually happened. So I told her, “Well don't worry, I won't tell the cops where you've been burying them if you don't.” Grave robber? She never did catch on.
On the flip side I've run into some really quick older gals on that same stretch of beach. For instance, one gal came up to me and she told where that she knew exactly where a $25'000 diamond ring had been lost. Said she'd tell me “exactly” where it was at if I'd promise to go look for it for her. Yes, I bit, and said, “OK.” She simply smiled, pointed to the center of ocean, and she said, “Out there.” I don't know who laughed harder, me or her. I ran into her from time to time on the beach on that beach after that day and she always waved to me with that well deserved winner's smile. She was a kool old gal and I miss her humor, quick wit, and our frequent exchanges. I have met many interesting and enjoyable people over years while pursuing this hobby.
Neat old stuff, that's what lies beyond those items of gold and silver, those secondary recoveries that, while not worth much, still keep the mystery and adventure alive and exciting. Even today, say just driving to a local park, I still get that same sense of adventure and mystery as I do during those more distant trips. Regardless where you go you just never know what you might uncover next or what event, however big or small, you might experience next. And the people you encounter the along the way, let's forget them as they can often quite a bit to adventure and the experience, often to the better, sometimes for the worse, but still providing memories to be recounted at a later day all the same.
Yesterday I was at the local library in search of future adventures, a couple of new books with the pages marked sitting on the nightstand next to my bed, a few more mysteries to be explored, perhaps a few more adventures to be taken? I can't wait to see how it all pans out!
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