Thanks Lanny. Hope you are surviving the cold. Wish I had some, it was 75 degrees here today!
:-(
We have lots of opportunities to survive the cold. I guess it's all the practice we get all winter long.
With your weather being as mild as it is, I imagine that your winter is a great time to get out and prospect, and the summer may be too hot for prospecting from time to time? Or, are you in one of those magical areas where your weather is temperate all year long, where it's never too hot or too cold.
Cold canyon gold.
I've done some crazy things over the years trying to mine or prospect when it was too cold.
I remember one year late in the fall, we (my partner and I) mounted an expedition to check out a spot deep in a canyon's gorge where the water had been much too high in the regular season to prospect such an unruly spot.
So, we packed up gear and headed to the gold field.
As it was late fall, the Tamaracks (The word
tamarack is the Algonquin name for the species of tree [Larch] and means "wood used for snowshoes") were all done up in their golden majesty.
We saw many Elk--bulls and cows--among the trees on the flats as we worked our way up slope to get to the canyon.
The wild turkeys were very busy chasing each other as well, the young born early in the year now just getting their mature colors and feathers.
From time to time, we spotted Mule Deer, the bucks busily courting the females to ensure the survival of the species. The only problem was, when they are in that excited state, they often forget where they are and they'll step right out in front of the truck! And, it takes a moment or two to stop the Green Dragon, that heavily loaded Dodge diesel. Luckily, it's equipped with a heavy duty brush guard that can also double as a deer catcher, if necessary. Nonetheless, no deer were harmed in the making of our golden journey that day.
The road up the canyon is very narrow, so of course much of it hugs the alpine cliff faces as it follows the contours of the mountains on its way up. The other side of the road is not for anyone faint of heart. In places it plunges off straight down for hundreds of feet to the glacial thread of the stream far below. The river is visible in what's most like the shutter snaps of a camera, views that quickly disappear, then reappear as the road winds and twists on its upward journey.
Along the way, Mother Nature continually moves things around like a true chess master. Sometimes the pieces of the game are large rocks or outright boulders that she's deposited directly on the road to see how we'll handle their sudden appearance. At other times, it's trees that block the entire road. In that case, the Green Dragon halts, the chainsaws come out, and the road is made safe for anyone that wishes to ascend or descend on that particular day. Sometimes it’s mobile obstacles, round and chubby ones with either black or brown coats. It depends on their mood and their species whether they'll quickly bolt, either upslope or downslope, off the trail. The Grizzly variety doesn't seem in near the hurry as their Black counterparts. Moose? Well, as the kings or queens of the chess pieces, they're pretty much big enough to dictate when they decide the trail is open or closed. As for cougars, they are indeed the shy knights of the game, and I've only ever had one that wanted the trail for but a few, brief moments. Pawns consist of an ever-changing variety of squirrels and grouse.
At last, we reached the summit of the climb and the trail began a brief downward descent to a sheltered meadow. A small creek emerged from the willows then quickly dove beneath the road through a culvert.
We had arrived.
We unloaded the day’s necessities from the Dragon, then gingerly made our way down a steeply sloped and cobbled foot trail that led to where the stream and the river met.
In the 1800's the old-timers had been very busy in this spot. They'd moved mountains of material to get to the gold as the entire area was underlain with bedrock that had been trapping gold for untold eons.
We were after scraps that day. The scraps the river continues to glean from the sides of those unscaleable slopes each and every spring.
Moreover, we were there at the right time of the year. The river was so low that bedrock was now visible on the far side, whereas earlier in the season, it was submerged under a foot or two of wild water.
However, as it was so late in the year, the timing was a blessing and a curse. As we hit the bottom Lanny and his load were suddenly airborne. Tools flew in every direction. Luckily they all landed in spots made for easy recovery. The shame I bore was much more of a problem. You see, my partner laughs too easily and too often. Especially when I'm flying through the air instead of treading solidly on terra firma. He thinks things like that are always funny.
Imagine that.
(More to come. I'll post the rest of this over on my main thread so I can keep my stories somewhat centralized:
http://www.treasurenet.com/forums/metal-detecting-gold/69-bedrock-gold-mysteries.html)
All the best,
Lanny
