Bedrock and Gold: The mysteries . . .

[Lanny in AB]

Do you love to chase the gold? Please join me--lots of gold hunting tips, stories of finds (successful and not), and prospecting poetry.

Nugget in the bedrock tip:

I had a visit with a mining buddy this past weekend, and he told me of an epic battle to get a nugget out of the bedrock, and of what he learned from the experience. I thought some of you might like to learn from his mistake.

While out detecting one day, he came across a large sheet of bare bedrock. The bedrock was exposed because the area had been blasted off with a water cannon (a monitor), by the old-timers! It was not fractured bedrock, in fact it was totally smooth.

He was not optimistic at all of the prospects of a nugget. But, for some reason (we've all been there) he decided to swing his detector over that bedrock. After a long time, just as he was about to give up on his crazy hunch, he got a signal, right out of that smooth bedrock.

There was no crevice, no sign of a crevice, nada! So, he had to go all the way back to camp to get a small sledge and a chisel. The signal in the rock intrigued him, but he still wasn't overly optimistic. For those of you that have chased signals in a similar situation, sometimes there's a patch of hot mineralization in the bedrock that sounds off, but this spot, according to him, was sharp and clear right in the middle of the signal, not just a general increase of the threshold like you get when you pass over a hot spot in the bedrock.

Anyway, he made it back to the spot and started to chisel his way into the bedrock. If any of you have tried this, it's an awful job, and you usually wind up with cut knuckles--at the least! Regardless, he kept fighting his way down, busting out chunks of bedrock. He kept checking the hole, and the signal remained very strong.

This only puzzled him all the more as he could clearly see that it was solid bedrock with no sign of any crevice. He finally quit at the end of the day, at a depth of about a foot, but still, nothing in the hole.

An experienced nugget shooting friend dropped by the next morning to see him, and asked him how the hunt was going. My buddy related his tale of the mysterious hole in the bedrock, and told the friend to go over and check it out, and see if he could solve the riddle.

Later in the day, the other nugget hunter returned. In his hand was a fine, fat, sassy nugget. It weighed in at about an ounce and a quarter! After my friend returned his eyeballs to their sockets and zapped his heart to start it again, he asked where the nugget had come from.

Imagine his surprise when he heard it came from the mystery hole!! He asked how deep the other guy had gone into the bedrock to get it. "Well, no deeper" was his reply.

So, here's the rest of the story as to what happened. When the successful nugget hunter got to the bedrock, he scanned the surface got the same strong signal as my buddy. He widened out the hole and scanned again. Still a solid tone. He widened the hole some more so he could get his coil in, and here's the key and the lesson in this story, he got a strong signal off the side of the hole, about six inches down, but set back another inch into the side of the bedrock!!

My unlucky friend, the true discoverer of the gorgeous nugget's resting place had gone deep past the signal while digging his hole!!

Now, of course, a good pinpointer would easily solve this problem. The problem was, my buddy didn't have one, so why would he widen the hole, right? Well, the other guy was the one with more experience, and that's why he did. It was a lot more work, but what a payoff!

So, my buddy's butt is still black and blue from where he kicked himself for the next week or so for having lost such an incredible prize.

Some nugget hunting lessons are harder than others to learn. . . .

All the best,

Lanny


P.S. When in gold country--check the bedrock, regardless of whether it looks likely or not! Mother Nature likes to play games sometimes.

 

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[Jim Hemmingway]

Mainly as a tourist seeing some country, and camped at the town campground... which was a pleasant surprise all things considered. Atlin is an attractive place...the big lake and all the famous gold creeks.. the Birch, the Spruce, the Pine and others... all claimed of course, and real friendly folks. The last trip I took a small sluice and pan but was restricted to the "public" claim. Spruce Creek runs fairly straight there so I dug into the bank and put it through the sluice... no pre-classifying... but ended up with a partly filled small vial of flakes for a week of leisurely "recreational" work. Near the trip's end I got an invitation to a private claim but declined... it was time to leave and already into early September. Never did get to see Whitehorse although within a half-hour drive.

Also enjoyed the Peace River country immensely Lanny. I camped on a private site just down from the hydroelectric dam about 7 minutes from Hudson Hope. I know the Fort St. John-Hudson Hope-Chetwind (sp?) area reasonably well. In fact another time I flew from Toronto to Edmonton to Fort St. John, rented a small car and whipped down to Hudson Hope and stayed at the diner-motel. Nice place, lovely village. Longtime home of Bradford and Vena Angiers, authors of many outdoor books and magazine articles years ago. And of course their well-known neighbor Dudley Shaw who is apparently credited with a maple syrup equivalent made by boiling potatoes in water for awhile and remove, then add brown sugar and store for a few months... then it's ready. The wife made it according to their precise directions and it tastes just fine. I'm rambling...sorry...

Jim.

 

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[Lanny in AB]

Jim,

Thanks for the updates on the areas you've visited. You've been to some places that are still on my list. Thanks for the write-up as well on the things you were able to do and the people you were able to meet. And, you were lucky enough to sample some hooch too.

All the best,

Lanny

 

[NuggetN8]

I had to post this video here as well, in case you don't visit the general gold prospecting forum--it's a fantastic view of big, gorgeous North American Placer gold!! The video takes you underground for placer, and then you get the clean-up--it's well worth watching. If I found something like that, I'd have a heart attack for sure!!!



All the best,

Lanny

WOW!!!! That's amazing! Never seen that much gold come out in a cleanup before.. Those are some incredibly large nuggets too!

 

[NuggetN8]

Lanny what's the record for your biggest nugget found metal detecting?

 

[Lanny in AB]

For personal reasons, as many others do, I adhere to the don't ask, don't tell policy. Hope you understand.

All the best,

Lanny

 

[Lanny in AB]

At close to the 9 minute mark, things start happening, and the final result is bigger than he estimated--that's for sure.



All the best,

Lanny

 

[Jim Hemmingway]

Think I'm getting gold fever Lanny. As much as I like big silver, it might be fun to find some yellow metal... what an interesting idea.

Watching these videos of big gold from Australia, I get to wondering if the TDI Pro or Infinium would have found those signals. Most don't seem terribly deep. Enjoyed the video, thanks.

Jim.

 

[Lanny in AB]

Think I'm getting gold fever Lanny. As much as I like big silver, it might be fun to find some yellow metal... what an interesting idea.

Watching these videos of big gold from Australia, I get to wondering if the TDI Pro or Infinium would have found those signals. Most don't seem terribly deep. Enjoyed the video, thanks.

Jim.

I'm more than ready to go find some gold Jim. I was ready a month ago to have winter over, and there's still two or three good months to go.

I think when they're shallow that most good gold detectors should be able to find them--I agree with you on that Jim. And, when they're "sun baking", a good set of eyeballs should do the job.

All the best, and you really should take the plunge sometime to chase some sassy gold Jim,

Lanny

 

[Lanny in AB]

The audio on this is rough, but the video of what shows up is great. Obviously, this is not one of my finds, but it helps warm up the winter blues.

Interesting little meet and greet with some sassy, chunky gold!



All the best,

Lanny

 

[Lanny in AB]

Go to the 13-24 second mark, and then forget about the rest of the video. That's a truck bumper that bad boy is sitting on--remember that as you look at the size of that thing!



All the best,

Lanny

 

[Fullpan]

Thanks Lanny - you're helping to get me thru another winter!

 

[Lanny in AB]

Thanks Lanny - you're helping to get me thru another winter!

It's what's getting me through too--so, no problem.

All the best,

Lanny

 

[Lanny in AB]

Far From Government Gulch

The day was a downer of soaking drizzle. It had been raining steady for two days.

If you like mud, as in if you’re the kind of animal that likes to root around in it, roll in it, plaster yourself with it, fill the spaces between your toes with it, camouflage your face with it, never have the chance to be rid of it; well, this was your perfect day.

We’d been churning through mud on the quad all day, and as we drug ourselves back to the outfitter’s tent that night, it was with great welcome that we fired up the Bryan Stringam (northern outfitter manufacturer’s name) wood burning stove.

In short order we had to unzip the flaps and throw one up over the side of the tent. Our clothes hung from one of the roof poles, steaming out steady clouds of rapidly evaporating Boreal forest wet. The boots by the stove resembled boots, but the pounds of mud on them blurred their outlines considerably. No matter, in short order we’d turn them around, then we’d lay them down, until they were dried all around. Finally, we’d knock the mud off them.

We had two queen air mattresses on tarps on the floor of the tent. And, we had lots of heavy bedding. Just under the foot of one, we had the 30-30 cached for quick service.

As to the necessity of the heavy bedding, that far north, even in the summer, there was ice on the fire bucket in the mornings, but in that tent that night—we were snug, dry, and getting sleepy mighty fast. We killed the Coleman lamp and turned in expecting more of the same weather the next day.

Imagine our surprise when the next morning brought not the dreaded drizzle, but broken sunshine instead. It looked like it was shaping up to be a nice day, for as the morning progressed, more and more clouds fled the skies until the sun ruled the great north once again.

However, the returning sun had its predictable cost, and for those of you that have paid the butcher’s bill in the north country, that cost was deducted in blood at the hands of the winged vampires of those skies—the dreaded blackfly, and the relentless mosquito.

I believe it was Shakespeare that made up a word to describe an unimaginable volume in numbers: multitudinous. Yes, that’s it, and that’s what they were—multitudinous. Nevertheless, we knew how to do proper battle. So, after liberally bathing in Deet—we hit the trail.

We were off to a spot we’d seen from the road, one located in a side gulch a long distance from the road to Government Gulch. It was a steeply descending cut that wrapped sharply to the right, dropped again, and then disappeared from view. We’d found it before the rain started; but, we’d been stymied by the rain; moreover, the trail was blocked by a blow-down, a huge spruce.

Nevertheless, as the day was fair, and as our sole purpose was to find gold, we loaded up the chainsaw in the aluminum all-purpose box secured just in front of the handlebars, exactly below the headlight on the quad. So, with everything tightly secured, we set off to explore the aforementioned trail.

(I'll return and add more of this story as I have time.)

All the best,

Lanny

 

[Lanny in AB]

Here's another chunk of "Far From Government Gulch":

We burned through town (the dwelling place of 21 isolated souls), then rose up a steep grade before we hit the forks. We took the trail to the right, cut hard to the right again, and there was the downed tree. After unlimbering the chainsaw, we filled the air with chain-dust (very coarse sawdust), coated ourselves with it, filled the ruts in the road with it, and left fragrant piles of it along the margins of the trail. We hooked up to some of the tree sections and drug the mass off the road. We were back in business.

Down the trail we went, and to the right, a large river valley peppered with pines and birch opened to our view. In the far distance across the river was a place we’d detected on a previous trip; the tale is told in the story where I detected forever in some red tailings thrown up from a drift mine and got nothing but square nails and disappointments, but that’s another story, for a more disappointing day.

So now, I’d better get back to this one.

The trail continued to descend, and of a sudden it hooked sharply to the right, then dove downward like a hawk after a mouse. That last part of the trail was a little hairy, but we finally bottomed out and found ourselves in an abandoned camp!

What a surprise.

It was a clever little setup—the previous occupants had hung lines all around the camp, and attached to those lines were cans filled with rocks. Yup—you’ve guessed it—they were crude bear detectors, but effective as an early warning system nonetheless. They’d been there a long time as the lines were beginning to rot—they’d probably been strung in the 70’s.

We poked around a bit and found a section of a sluice box, but the river was far away, and we couldn’t locate a stream anywhere nearby. So, why the sluice? It was too far to pump water from the river as well, so we knew it wasn’t part of a high-banker. So, what was up with that?

(More, as I get the chance.)

All the best,

Lanny

 

[Lanny in AB]

Yet another chunk. "Far From Government Gulch"

Well, we’d brought the SD Minelab along, so we headed up a side gulch to do some detecting.

You know, now that I reflect on it, I really had no clue in those days what the heck I was doing. Oh yeah, I could find nuggets, and I’d found some nice nuggets, but I just didn’t know hardly anything about electronic prospecting back then compared to what I know now. In other words, I was an electronic Cheechacko. (Oh, the shame!)

However, it’s not even that hard to admit it, as I reflect honestly on it. For, in those days, I’m quite sure I felt I knew it all—I’d read enough books to choke a hippo, more exactly, enough to choke a family of hippos several times over. In reality, what I had internalized was lots of was book smarts. And the exchange rate on book smarts for naturally occurring gold nuggets? Well, it gets you about the worst exchange rate on the planet!

I mean today, I’d slow way down. I’d listen for extremely faint sounds and signals, and those are the ones I’d invest the time in to investigate. Instead I always walked around waiting for a signal that blew my headphones off. Well, they got blown off on a regular basis by pieces of cast iron, square nails, bullets of a staggering range of calibers, and the ever present can slaw.

But, as the rest of you Sourdoughs know, that’s not what a serious nugget shooter should be rushing along to hear. The serious nugget hunter needs to be careful, needs to slow down, needs to do a thorough job of listening for even tiny whispers or unaccountable bumps in the threshold. Well sir—that wasn’t me. Nope! I was Mr. Speed Freak. I had acres of ground to cover, and that was the best way in the world to find the gold.

Not!

As I go to a deeper level of reflection on this story, it stuns me at how much gold I left behind. The only comfort is that I know the gold is still there, and I know there’s only the slightest chance that anyone else has stumbled across it in that remote area. But what just frosts my mug today is that I was in such a stupid hurry. I have no idea how much gold I could have brought out, for the simple truth is that I was moving too fast to even give that sassy gold a chance to be heard!

Up that little gulch that I’m telling you about, there were humps of bedrock all along an old watercourse, and I raced up and down that thing like a short-tailed cat with a lit road flare duct-taped to the end of his tail. I mean, I was obsessed with covering the maximum amount of ground in the shortest time possible. I have one word for that—stupid. Well, maybe a hyphenated, double word is best: bone-headed stupid.

For, what we discovered later, made me realize the true potential of that hidden camp.

(More as time permits.)

 

[Jim Hemmingway]

We're into another great yarn I can see. About the detecting... yep... most of us have been guilty at one time or another. You're in good company at the moment...

Bone-headed Jim.

 

[Jim Hemmingway]

We're into another great yarn I can see. About the detecting... yep... most of us have been guilty at one time or another. You're in good company at the moment...

Bone-headed Jim.

 

[Lanny in AB]

We're into another great yarn I can see. About the detecting... yep... most of us have been guilty at one time or another. You're in good company at the moment...

Bone-headed Jim.

It's the truth Jim--being out there in the field is where you learn the lessons that last. Thanks for dropping in.

All the best,

Lance

 

[63bkpkr]

Hi Lanny and Jim, this is your bone-headed friend Herb! When I've found gold it was low and slow, slow, slowwwww. But do not let me keep you from your story.............63bkpkr

Oh, and Lanny the picture of the mountain country with that side canyon running all the way around and down the hill is just stunning! With all that broken rock and the little bits of growing green stuff, what awesome country! Of course I'm just a sucker for bad country but that place is spelled with a Capital B.

 

[Lanny in AB]

Hi Lanny and Jim, this is your bone-headed friend Herb! When I've found gold it was low and slow, slow, slowwwww. But do not let me keep you from your story.............63bkpkr

Oh, and Lanny the picture of the mountain country with that side canyon running all the way around and down the hill is just stunning! With all that broken rock and the little bits of growing green stuff, what awesome country! Of course I'm just a sucker for bad country but that place is spelled with a Capital B.

Herb,

It's always great to have you drop in! I'm assuming that you're still observing and haven't had a chance to get out to chase any gold recently. Trust me--I can relate. With the nature's Great White Hand heavy on the land, I'm not getting any prospecting done either. In fact, I'll be on hold for a few months yet!

It's very insightful of you to realize the speed you have to hunt at to find the gold--so, I'm happy to admit you to the bone-headed fraternity of past Cheechako blunderers. But, at least we've all moved on from there. There is a place for faster, and that's when you're covering a huge area, and you've no idea if there's a patch anywhere or not; however, when you're in an area and you know gold is present, as I assuredly did in the area I'm writing the story about, to quote you Herb, "Low and slow, slow, slowwwww" should have been my mantra.

And, yes, I haul myself in to some bad country, and some of it is incredibly beautiful. Moreover, I remember still the reading of your hallmark story of difficult country when you had to activate your spot rescue device because you'd situated yourself inside some incredibly beautiful yet b-a-b country, so you are one for sure that knows of those unique challenges.

I miss reading of your adventures Herb, and I hope that you will get out in the hills yet to provide us with some more of your great pictures and yarns.

All the best,

Lanny